


Two Conditions for a Beating Heart

by profit_of_the_prophet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragon Hanzo, M/M, Scientist McCree, Slow Burn, Smut Of Some Sort Eventually, Unreliable Narrator, romance ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:23:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profit_of_the_prophet/pseuds/profit_of_the_prophet
Summary: When field researcher Jesse McCree meets the half dragon half human Hanzo, they set off on an adventure in this non-specific fantasy world of mythical proportions and undetermined time period.





	1. Chance Encounter

McCree hid behind a rock once he spotted the beast.  
  
Crouched over a pool of crystalline water and drinking from cupped hands, McCree nearly mistook it for a human, but he held his tongue just in time to notice the ivory horns curling back from its head. Without a doubt, he had accidentally stumbled upon a dragonborn. They were the rare bastards of dragons and humans, said to have incredible strength but the intelligence of an animal. Horror stories of women impregnated with these beasts and raising them always ended with the entire family being slaughtered once the infant could hold up its head. Nonetheless, McCree considered himself a connoisseur of the rare things in nature, and he wasn't about to leave without a moment of study.   
  
He pulled his notebook from his pocket, titling the page as he did every time he found a new subject, and began sketching. He noted that while the creature wore clothes, they were little more than rags crudely stitched together, with one sleeve completely torn off, exposing its left side to the elements. Strange blue markings covered its shoulder, but McCree couldn't make out what they were. The most stunning part about it, however, was its face. The dragonborn was remarkably beautiful, even from a distance. Jesse was reminded of the swans he'd admired until one bit his finger when he tried to pet it.

He had finished his first sketch when the creature began to remove its clothing, and McCree suddenly felt less like a scientist and more like a creep. All the same, his curiosity kept him watching as the beast, almost gently, folded each item and placed them on the rock behind him.  
  
Once it was naked, McCree took in another surprised breath. The creature seemed as human in form as it got, though he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe a tail, or scales; certainly not a well built male body that shivered as it sank into the water. It dipped it's long black hair into the water and rubbed its scalp almost furiously before tearing back up to the surface, sending an arc of water in the air.   
  
The creature reached for the little bag he'd discarded along with his clothes and pulled out a small white stone, which it used to polish it's scales in little circles - nope, it was just soap.   
  
McCree made a note: “Very cleanly.”   
  
He was disturbed with his determination to view this creature as just that, a creature, instead of the very likely possibility that this being could be more human than any of his colleagues at the University had led him to believe. If they were to always be trusted, this horned man would be acting more like a dog than this. Taking a bath in water, cleaning itself with civilized means; hell, even the fact that it was wearing clothes would surprise them. Dragons and dragonborn were, after all, the most mysterious creatures in the land, and (as always follows ignorance) feared.   
  
McCree made another note in his book: perhaps a dragonborn successfully raised by humans?   
  
The creature made a splash in the water, but when McCree looked up, it had disappeared. He craned his head for a moment, searching to see where it had gone to, but his head was slammed to the ground from behind and a knee jammed against the small of his back. He felt hard talons press against the flesh of his neck, and the cold sting of water dripped against his skin.   
  
He strained to turn his gaze back, and freezed at the sight of the dragonborn. How had it gotten behind him so fast? He must have finally heard the scratch of McCree’s pen; these creatures sure had impressive senses -   
  
“Who are you?” the beast growled. “Why do you watch me bathe?”   
  
McCree instinctively blushed, but his embarrassment was quenched by this new information: it could speak, and in common tongue!   
  
“Ah, sorry, that was real rude of me, wasn't it,” he managed to say. “To tell the truth, I ain't ever seen one of your kind before, and I was a little taken aback.”   
  
The grip on his neck tightened.   
  
“I have never seen such a hairy human, yet I know basic decency.”   
  
McCree broke into a cold sweat. “I do... beg for your forgiveness. I fucked up, believe me do I regret it. Look, I was just drawing you - er, not while you were, uh, bathing, just before that. You truly are a marvel.”   
  
McCree cringed at his bleak attempt to save his own life. Ironic that though he had feared letting the beast see him would incur it's wrath, it was instead his rudeness in hiding that fucked him over.   
  
The grip on his throat left as the dragonborn reached for McCree's notebook, though it's other hand remained holding McCree's head down. It flipped through the pages until it found what it was looking for, then seemed to examine it for a time.   
  
McCree squirmed under the pressure and said, “I really don't mean any harm, I was just -"   
  
“Is this really what I look like?”   
  
McCree blinked in surprise. “Well, I ain't a professional, but I've had a bit of practice, so, yeah. I'd reckon I got pretty close to the mark.”   
  
The other hand retracted from McCree's head, though the creature remained kneeling on his back. He found just the removal of those sharp talons very comforting, even if he was still at the dragonborn’s mercy.   
  
“Ain't you ever seen your reflection before?” McCree asked tentatively.   
  
There was a moment of silence before the dragonborn replied. “Only in pools of water and against the smooth walls of ice; I see now that they are poor examples. They ripple and contort so much that I always thought myself unsightly. But this…”   
  
He trailed off and McCree was once again left to the tense silence while the dragonborn examined his own image. Amazing. There was too much new information for McCree to process in the moment, but the revelation that the dragonborn was enchanted by his own image was strangely endearing. He could imagine this obviously intelligent creature, growing up in the wild, and never knowing how truly beautiful he was.   
  
“I have a mirror, if you'd like?” McCree said, twitching a hand to his pack abandoned against the rocks.   
  
“A mirror?”   
  
“Yeah, I just have to grab it from my bag.”   
  
McCree held his breath, feeling the weight of the dragonborn’s indecision as heavily as the knee on his back. Finally, the weight shifted and McCree let out a sigh of relief. The dragonborn slid away, and McCree scrambled to his knees. His first proper look at the creature was of it crouched on a rock, looking down at him, still stark naked and somehow all the more terrifying for it.   
  
“Give me the mirror,” he ordered.

Jesse averted his gaze. “Don't suppose you'd mind puttin' on some clothes first?”

The dragonborn looked down at his exposure, then back to McCree with an inquisitive look.

“My nakedness didn't bother you a minute ago; why be shy now?”

Jesse wasn't used to feeling afraid and embarrassed at the same time, but he swallowed it down and tried smiling.

“Despite first impressions, I do consider myself a gentleman,” he said.

“Would a gentleman hide on a bathing stranger and continue to draw them while unaware?”

Jesse put up his hands. “Now, to be fair, I was drawing you before you stripped. And in my defense, I didn't even know how intelligent you are. If I wasn't careful you could attack me without question. Which I guess you kinda did. Not - not to say I didn't deserve it, self-defense and all that, I agree completely. But -"

The dragonborn flicked his hand to silence Jesse, who's mouth snapped shut.  
“I do not care for your excuses. The mirror, now.”

McCree quickly picked up his bag, pulling the mirror from its inner pocket. It was a simple oval mirror, sturdily built for travel, and once McCree gave it a rub with his inside sleeve, it looked good as new. The dragonborn snatched the proffered mirror from Jesse's hands and put it up to his face. Almost immediately, his eyes widened. He brought a talon to his cheek, apparently enchanted. He seemed taken by the sight of his own eyes most of all, which McCree now saw were almost silver. McCree reached for where the dragonborn dropped his journal and opened to a blank page to begin drawing again. His face was otherworldly, for sure, but not monstrous. He paid special attention to the shape of his horns, his cheekbones, his strong jaw and full lips. He felt transported back to a figure drawing class he had taken. They were assigned partners to practice faces, and he had ended up with the most beautiful woman in the class. Her full features and enchanting eyes had captivated everyone, so to be drawing her with such scrutiny felt like he was stealing something sacred.   
  
The dragonborn suddenly looked up, and upon seeing McCree was drawing again, snatched the book from his hands. McCree almost cried out in protest as his pencil dragged a black line across the page, but the glare on the dragonborn’s face made him falter.   
  
It looked at the new image and frowned. “This is an exaggerated replication. My eyes aren't so large, and my nose is much smaller.”   
  
McCree chuckled despite himself. “Like I said, I'm no professional.”   
  
Jesse considered himself a sociable man first and a courageous one second, but he'd need a little more than a charming smile with this situation. He'd need to take some good advice and think before he spoke, so he sat for a moment before diving in to his questions.   
  
“What's your name?” he said. There was so much he wanted to know, but it was better to start small.   
  
The dragonborn seemed about to snap at him again before changing his mind. “My mother called me Hanzo.”   
  
McCree smiled.  “You can call me McCree. Jesse McCree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's a fuckin' perv


	2. Tea Party

 "Which is it? McCree or Jesse McCree?”  
  
“Oh, just McCree. Jesse McCree’s my full name.”  
  
“Why do you shorten it?”  
  
Jesse almost laughed but stopped when he saw Hanzo's serious face.  
  
“Ah, well, the way it works is most people have two, or even three names. Sometimes more. The first is always their own, so I'm just Jesse. The last is passed down by my father.”  
  
Hanzo seemed perplexed by this information.  
  
“I never knew humans had such pointless customs. Dragonkind rarely even go by name; it is only thanks to my mother that I have one.”  
  
“Yeah, you mentioned that. Is she human?”  
  
Hanzo looked strangely melancholy as he nodded.  
  
Jesse chewed on his lip, mind racing. His hypothesis about Hanzo was beginning to bud, and though he desperately wanted to bombard him with questions, he knew it wouldn't be welcomed.  
  
“So you like my drawings of you, huh?”  
  
Hanzo scowled. “I do not; they look nothing like me, and they are messy. I am simply… unused to seeing myself in such a way.”  
  
“Oh, right. Well, you are a mighty fine creature - if you'll excuse my turn of phrase.”  
  
Hanzo sniffed, letting it slide.  
  
“You did not answer why you were drawing me in the first place.”  
  
“Didn't I? Coulda sworn I did.”  
  
“You did not.”  
  
McCree considered what the truth would sound like, and reasoned it was better than any lie he could come up with.  
  
“I'm a researcher from the University. I was out here lookin' for the pulsu cordis; finding you was just a, uh, happy accident?”

Hanzo crossed his arms impatiently.

“Well, you know, Dragonborn are the rarest species in the world, so being a man of science, I just couldn't pass up an opportunity to see what you're like. I really am sorry for hiding; if I'd known you were intelligent, I would'nt’ve hid.”

“Are you saying I look dull?”

Jesse blanched. “No - what, I'd never, I just meant -"

Hanzo silenced him with a hand again. “I am not being serious.”

Jesse lasted a heartbeat before it hit him. A joke was the last thing he expected, but it was exactly what he needed to lift the shawl of uneasiness from him. He laughed in an uncontrolled way that comes under pressure.  
  
Hanzo shifted uncomfortably and stood. “I should dress.”

That earned a chuckle from Jesse. “That'd be much appreciated.”

Jesse had the good sense to turn his back while Hanzo shrugged his threadbare rags back on.  
  
“You say you are a researcher?” 

Jesse couldn't help jumping; he hadn't even heard Hanzo walking behind him. 

“Oh, yeah, of sorts,” Jesse said. “Why'd you ask?”  
  
“Do you have any books?”  
  
Jesse blinked. “Uh, might have. Mind if I ask why?”  
  
Hanzo’s glare was dulled when he glanced away. “Books are hard to come by for me.”  
  
“You wanna read?” Jesse asked, a smile spreading wide.  
  
Hanzo merely looked pointedly at his bag.  
  
McCree obliged and pulled out the only book in his bag; it's mostly stuffed with foodstuffs and clothes. He didn't see much point in packing books when he set out.  
  
“It's just my reference book for flora and fauna. I don't think you'd find it very interesting.”  
  
Hanzo grabbed it anyway, excitement bleeding through his otherwise steely face.

“I am keeping this,” he told Jesse, tucking the book into his shirt.  
  
“So ya like reading?” McCree asked as he pulls a cigarillo from his pocket.  
  
Hanzo watched him light it as he replied, “It is one thing my mother wanted me to learn more than any other.”  
  
“Your mother, huh? What was she like?”  
  
Hanzo opened his mouth to reply when the scent of the cigar reaches him. He wrinkled his nose and gagged.  
  
“That scent is foul,” he said, turning away.  
  
Jesse stamped out the cigarillo immediately and tossed it away.  
  
Turning back to Hanzo with a shamed chuckle, he said, “Sorry. Bad habit.”  
  
Hanzo, however, seemed to have outgrown his patience with McCree. Grabbing his little bag and the mirror, he stood up and turned away.  
  
“Wait - where are you going?”  
  
Hanzo frowned. “ You are lucky I chose to spare you, and you wish to test my patience?”  
  
Jesse scrambled to his feet and started following after him.  
  
They walked in silence for a few moments before Hanzo turned around.  
  
“Stop it,” he commanded.  
  
Jesse put up his hands in subservience. He knew he was on thin ice here, but the thought of just going back to the University with so little was out of the question.  
  
Hanzo sniffed and turned back to his path. Jesse wondered if the mountain valley had always been his home. It wasn't a bad mountain, if only a bit cold. There were plenty of pine trees and wildlife, and the mountain water that streamed from the peak provided enough clean water for basic needs. Jesse wondered how Hanzo hunted, but remembering how quickly he had snuck up on Jesse - and from in front, too - he doubted it would be a difficult process. How did he eat, though? Raw, or cooked? He'd heard tales of dragons breathing fire, but imagining this person with such abilities seemed unlikely.  
  
Eventually, the path steepened, and Jesse started breathing hard as the altitude rose and his legs burned. Hanzo, of course, was fine, and he began gaining altitude on Jesse. He wanted to call out and ask for him to wait up, but fear that reminding the Dragonborn of his presence would cause him to become annoyed stopped him.  
  
After a while, Jesse's heavy breathing and grunts of effort become too much for Hanzo as he turned around to scowl down at him. 

“You are going to fall and die, human.”  
  
Jesse couldn't reply if he wanted to. He kept climbing.  
  
“I showed you mercy, but that may not last you're wheezing.”  
  
Jesse grinned up at him as he got closer.  
  
Hanzo picked up a pebble and threw it at Jesse like a stray dog. It hit him in the head.  
  
“Good aim,” he managed to breathe out. Hanzo threw another.  
  
Finally, after much groaning and many pebbles, he reached the rocks below Hanzo's feet and collapsed, letting out a whoop.  
  
“You make this climb,” he said, “every day?”  
  
Hanzo sneered. “My kind are not so weak as you humans.”  
  
“Amazing,” Jesse breathed, taking off his hat to fan himself with.  
  
He almost missed the haughty, pleased expression on Hanzo's face before he jumped down and knelt beside Jesse.  
  
“All you want is information on my lifestyle, correct?” he asked.  
  
Jesse nodded, afraid to speak and spoil whatever Hanzo was about to say.  
  
Hanzo squinted into the horizon, considering.  
  
“Fine. I will allow it.”  
  
Jesse smiled and jumped to his feet, a whoop already escaping him as he clapped. Clasping them together, he raised his hands to the Dragonborn, who wore an expression like he'd just swallowed a bug. “Thank you, Hanzo.”  
  
“Just be prepared to hide if my father comes to visit.”  
  
Jesse faltered. “Your… father?”  
  
“Yes. He might think I brought you for him if he sees you.”  
  
Jesse gulped and tried to shake off his sudden trepidation with a laugh. “You bring a lotta strange men home to meet your dad?”  
  
“No,” Hanzo said. “Usually I bring him elk or bear. Humans tend to be too small.”  
  
“Right. Makes sense.”  
  
Now that Hanzo had accepted Jesse's presence, he deigned to climb alongside Jesse, dragging him up after him when he lagged behind and snapping comments on his diminishing patience.  
  
“You do not want to climb this when the sun goes down,” he said, and Jesse was horrified to realize the sunset was already pinkening the horizon.  
  
“How much farther?” he panted, adrenaline helping quicken his hands.  
  
“We're nearly there,” Hanzo promised, his tone almost encouraging.  
  
Jesse gritted his teeth and pushed on. The idea of finding these handholds in the dark was too terrifying to consider.  
  
The light seemed to dim too quickly as they climbed until it set entirely and all Jesse could see was the outline of his hand against the black edge of the rocks. He tried to feel the next handhold, but it seemed to be all smooth rock. He was gonna be stuck on the side of the mountain all night, he just knew it. How stupid did he have to be, following a Dragonborn up a mountain? This was worse than the time he fell asleep on the back of a wagon and ended up miles from his hometown. He had to walk a day and a night, only for his ma to beat him worse than the blisters on his feet.  
  
Suddenly a hand grasped his, sharp talons and cool flesh gripping him firmly, and he was pulled up. As soon as his torso was on the ledge he scrambled the rest of the way, pressing his face against the cold stone in a state of relief and exhaustion. Hanzo was sprawled beside him, propped on his elbows and panting.  
  
“You are heavy,” he complained.  
  
Jesse managed to grin. “Thank ya, darlin’.”  
  
Hanzo scraped to his feet. “Well, we made it,” he said, and Jesse struggled to stand, excited again at the idea of seeing Hanzo's home.  
  
Predictably, it was a cave. What Jesse wasn't expecting was the huge plank of wood covering the entrance.  
  
“How'd ya get that up here?” he wondered aloud as Hanzo pushed it aside, creating enough space to squeeze through.  
  
“My father.”  
  
McCree whistled as he follows Hanzo inside, touching the gash marks in the wood from the dragon's claws. He had to take off his bulky backpack to get inside, and even then Hanzo was forced to make a bigger gap to get the thing through.  
  
Hanzo closed it up again, plunging them into darkness, Jesse's breath the only sound. He flinched when Hanzo brushed past his right. He could hear him fiddling with something, and with a flare, a match illuminated Hanzo's face in distorting orange shadows. Jesse watched him move around the room, lighting candles and torches until the cavern was completely lit. Jesse couldn't help his gawking. The room was _full_ of stuff, from bookcases and tables to figurines and vases filled with dried flowers. It had a sort of charm, for a dragon's home, that came from the dedicated collection of junk made treasure. Jesse noted that most of the furniture was cracked or damaged, and he could imagine Hanzo's monstrous father flying up the mountain with a bed in his talons. The image was funny, despite the terror he'd always felt seeing dragons on his mountain travels.  
  
Jesse noticed the shrine in the back corner, with incense and candles unlit around it. There was no picture, but instead a folded blanket and drawings of flowers.  
  
Hanzo moved methodically around the room, apparently completing a routine despite Jesse's presence. He lit a fire in the pit at the center of the room, his focused face illuminated warmly by the flickering flames. Then he stood to retrieve a pot from one of the shelves and brought it over to a barrel. Jesse followed and peered inside. It was full of water, swirling and clean, which Hanzo scooped into the pot with a wooden ladle.  
  
“How'd you get all that in here?” he asked.  
  
“The rain has been heavy this year,” he said.  
  
Jesse eyed Hanzo's muscular arms, thinking despite his stature, he must be as strong as men thrice his size to drag that barrel around.  
  
Hanzo set the pot over the flames to start the boil and turned to prepare whatever drink he was planning.  
  
“So how'd you get all this stuff anyway?” Jesse asked.  
  
Hanzo took a moment to reply. “My brother brought me most of it. My father brought the furniture.”  
  
Jesse perked up. “You've got a brother?”  
  
Hanzo shook his head. “He was human. But we share the same mother, so in a way he is family.”  
  
“Yeah, that's how most would classify it,” Jesse murmured. While Hanzo was occupied Jesse pulled out his notebook and started cataloging everything he'd noticed so far.  
  
“Are you drawing me again?”  
  
Jesse jumped; he hadn't noticed Hanzo sneak up beside him.  
  
“Oh, naw, just taking notes. Hope that's okay.”  
  
Hanzo sniffed at the words and turns away. Was it just his imagination, or did Hanzo look disappointed?

He set down a stout bowl filled with dark green tea in front of Jesse and sat on the stool opposite, holding his own bowl between cupped hands.  
  
“You seem used to havin’ company,” Jesse observed.  
  
Hanzo took a sip. “My mother and brother came to visit quite often. They taught me many things about human customs.”  
  
“Hold on - who raised you?”  
  
“My father.”  
  
Jesse blinked in alarm. “Ain't he - and, pardon my indelicacy, but ain't he a dragon?”  
  
Hanzo frowns. “He can take on a human form if that's what you mean. How did you think he copulated with my mother?”  
  
Jesse hid his flush behind the rim of his tea bowl, chuckling abashedly.  
  
“You seem very comfortable,” Hanzo comments, watching Jesse with those silver eyes.  
  
Jesse smiled questioningly. “I'm a pretty laid back fella if that's what ya mean.”  
  
“No,” Hanzo said and leaned forward suddenly, baring his teeth. The upper and lower incisors are sharp, like a dog's, and McCree was reminded suddenly of the sharpness of those talons that gripped the table. “You are so comfortable, it almost seems you've forgotten how easily I could kill you.”  
  
Jesse expected a flash of fear - hell, he almost felt it. But somehow, between the mirror and the book, and being served tea, the idea to fear seemed unnecessary. It was just like with cats; they try to seem scary when they feel threatened, but it's all for show.  
  
“Guess I'm just trying to keep a positive attitude about all that,” he said with a smile.  
  
Hanzo looked doubtful, but he retreated, picking up his tea again.  
  
Jesse was burning with questions, but he knew people, and despite his appearance, Jesse was pretty sure Hanzo was just like anyone else. Luckily, Jesse knew a simple trick to breaking the ice, and that trick was the oldest in the book. He put down his bowl and leaned forward with his most charming smile, and said, “So. Pretty nice weather lately, huh?”  
  
Hanzo hesitated. “There has been… sun.”  
  
Jesse looked around the room, searching for anything else he could make small talk on. His eyes landed on a shelf in the corner, full of books.  
  
“Hey, you do have books!” he exclaimed as he stood up to make his way over to them. Hanzo stood as well, following closely behind.  
  
“May I?” Jesse asked, gesturing to the books.  
  
Hanzo hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I have re-read them so many times that they are all quite dull to me.”  
  
Jesse pulled the thickest one and reads the title: University of Numura’s Common Dictionary.  
  
“Wait a sec - you read the dictionary? More than once?”  
  
Hanzo took it from his hands and put it back. “It may not be very exciting, but it was educational.”  
  
“I'd bet,” Jesse said. “Hey, it paid off. You talk better than me!”  
  
“That's not a high bar you're setting.”  
  
Jesse turned to look in surprise, and upon seeing Hanzo’s smirk, couldn't help laughing.  
  
“That's just the country in me,” he said. “Couldn’t get rid of it if I tried.”  
  
He ran his hands along the other spines, noting that more than half seemed to be children’s books, while the few more advanced literature were well worn and falling apart. He caught Hanzo watching him from the corner of his eye, and glanced to see an almost vulnerable expression on his face. It hit Jesse then: he was worried what he thought.  
  
Jesse searched the titles until he recognized one and then pulled it out gently. It was perhaps the most beaten up of them all, a cheap plain cotton bound copy of a undisputed classic. The cover was hanging by threads, even though it had obviously been already been resewn a couple times or more.   
  
“Wow,” he said. “Captain Amari’s Travel Log. Now that's a classic.”  
  
Hanzo peered at the book and smiled. “That is one of my favourites.”  
  
“You know some say she’s still alive?”  
  
Hanzo looked alarmed by this. “Did she die?”  
  
Jesse paleed and reads the spine again. It was only volume one.  
  
“Shit,” he said. “Might’ve just spoiled the sequel.”  
  
Rather than looking angry, Hanzo's face brightened. “There's a sequel?”  
  
“Oh yeah, and if you liked Lieutenant Reinhardt, he wrote his own. Ain't as good, though; it's a little heavy on the analogies.”  
  
Hanzo looked wistfully at Captain Amari’s Travel Log, then back to Jesse.  
  
“Can you bring those to me?” he asks.  
  
Jesse faltered. “Leave and come back with… books?”  
  
Hanzo nodded. “My brother used to bring me such things, but…”  
  
Jesse waited for the rest of the sentence, but Hanzo was staring into the middle distance, his face dark.  
  
Jesse put a light hand on Hanzo's shoulder, and becoming emboldened when he didn't flinch away asked, “What happened?”  
  
Hanzo took a moment to hear, but when he did he shoved Jesse's hand away.  
  
“Nothing,” he said, turning away and walking back to the table. “I assume you expect to sleep here tonight?”  
  
Jesse nodded, wringing his hands. “If it ain't too much trouble.”  
  
“It is. You will sleep outside.”  
  
Jesse's smile froze on his face. “Huh?”  
  
And so he found himself shivering against the wood plank door, wrapped in his sleeping sack, with nothing but a candle, which, while admittedly thoughtful of Hanzo to give him, blew out upon the first gust of wind. Jesse had tried fruitlessly to push away the plank and get back inside the warmth of the dragonborn’s cave, but it was even heavier than it looked, and all Jesse got out his effort was a splinter.  
  
Eventually, he managed to fall asleep, his mind filled with restless dreams of dragons biting at his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And he froze to death. The end.


	3. The Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read when this was originally published, sorry it took so long! Good old writers block and the classic decision to change the entire work from present to past tense. Good times. I also edited the first two chapters a little bit, but don't worry if you don't want to reread it. I just cleaned it up and filled some plot holes. Thank you for your comments and support <3

Hanzo spent the night reading. Finally having a new book felt like a cup of water after days in the desert, and he struggled to take his time with each word lest he finishes too fast. He was thankful the book was so dense, and he rejoiced when he had to reference a word in his dictionary that he'd forgotten the meaning of. The book was a detailed study of plants and trees, almost all of which he recognized from the forest below, and every page had Jesse’s notes in careful and clean letters. Some pages even had dried leaves and flowers pressed between the pages, which bombarded his senses with the sweet musk of dead things. He threw the clippings in the fire, sure that Jesse wouldn't miss them.

Unfortunately, the book was short, and he finished it before his candle burned down. He shivered in the cold. His fire was poorly built last night, leaving him without even an ember to warm himself. He sighed and began stacking wood, carefully forming a pyramid the way his mother had tried to teach him long ago. Of all his noble dragon heritage, fire-breathing was the one he wished for the most yet could not have. He cursed whatever malevolent God disabled him so, as well as his father for putting him so high in the mountains.

Hanzo’s stomach tightened in a knot to remind him he'd forgotten to hunt yesterday, and his thoughts flashed to the human outside. No, he couldn't, not unless he was desperate. He was sure he could overpower him again easily, but the man was a chatterbox; no doubt he'd guilt him out of it somehow. The morning was getting late and he still hadn't tried to get back inside; not even a knock. Hanzo couldn't help the uneasy feeling that swirled through his stomach when he thought that Jesse might have decided to climb down the mountain now that the sun was up. Unable to get the thought out of his mind, he put the book down and walked over to the cave entrance. He had his hands on the plank when the thought struck him: maybe Jesse froze to death. Hanzo knew humans are much weaker than dragonkind, and it was chilly last night, even for Hanzo. He pushed the plank aside, dreading to see the cliff empty or Jesse's blue corpse on his doorstep.

Instead, Jesse McCree was hunched over but very much alive, evident by the fact that he was smoking a cigarillo as he watched the sun rise. His face, which Hanzo had only seen smiling or nervous before, was stoic and sharp when he glanced back.

Hanzo felt relief mixed with annoyance. Why should Jesse look so mad? He had no right to expect sanctuary in Hanzo's home. He said himself, he was a scientist that researched creatures; would he sleep in the den of the wolves he wanted to study?

“I am just checking to see if you are still here,” Hanzo declared, turning up his nose at the hideous stench of the humans smoke stick.

Jesse pursed his lips and takes a long drag of his cigarillo before flicking it off the side of the cliff. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, and Hanzo was startled by the reminder of how tall the human is. He had an intrusive thought, more of a memory, of the time he saw wolves tackle an elk. They went for its neck primarily, overcoming the size disadvantage by ducking where the elk couldn't reach. If he had to, he'd copy the wolves.

“I’ll do it,” Jesse announced, tearing Hanzo from his thoughts.

He glowered at Jesse for a few moments before asking: “Do what?”

“Get you your books.”

Hanzo tipped his head back, a pleased smile stretching his lips, but Jesse put up a hand.

“On one condition,” he said, an amused glint in his eye.

Hanzo’s smile dropped.

“I'll get you your books, anything you ask for,” Jesse said, walking towards Hanzo with a finger in the air. “But in return, you've gotta let me study you.”

Hanzo’s face went stormy. “I am not meant to be studied.”

Jesse looked unfazed. “Let’s call ‘em interviews, then. For every book I give you, I'd like some of your time. Long as you answer my questions truthfully, I'll keep coming back with more books.”

Hanzo looked only slightly less uneasy.

“What will you do with this information?” he asked.

“That’s the thing!” Jesse said, moving forward as if to grab Hanzo's arms, but stopping short, thinking better. “No one knows anything about dragonkind, right? So my thinkin's that if I can show everyone you aren't as bad as they think, they won't be so scared of ya.”

“How are you so certain I don't want their fear? How do you know it is not rightfully accosted?”

Jesse smiled knowingly at Hanzo, and it didn't take long for Hanzo to look away.

“Fine,” he snapped. “I will consent to your terms.”

Jesse smiled broadly and made a sort of half-step like he wanted to give Hanzo a hug.

“You won't regret this,” he promised, heaving up his bag. “I'll be back in a few days!”

Hanzo watched Jesse descend the mountain for a while before going back inside and slunk in front of the fire, face between his knees. He didn't expect the human’s absence to depress him so much; perhaps he had been alone too long. With time, the feeling would pass, or so he thought.

The next day he went down the mountain to collect firewood, but he couldn't help scaling a tree or two and searching for some sign of the human. Even as he climbed back up the rocky cliffs, timber tied to his back, he looked around at the road he could see past the forest, and even though his eyes were sharp, he couldn't tell if that black shape moving along it was human or not.

“I don't care,” he told the rabbit he was skinning. “If he comes back, great, if not, even better. His presence was so grating I could barely think.”

The rabbit stared up at him doubtfully, so he ripped off its head and threw it to the breeze.

It wasn't until two days later that Jesse McCree returned. Hanzo watched him climb, ignoring the way his heart leaped to his throat.

Jesse was panting heavily as he pulled himself up the last stretch, but his smile was bright as sunlight when he saw Hanzo looking down at him.

“Sorry… I took so long,” Jesse said once he had collapsed face-first at Hanzo's feet.

Hanzo crossed his arms and looked away.

“Your apology is accepted.”

Jesse laughed at that, the buckles on his backpack rattling with the gusto of it, and Hanzo couldn't help his smile in return.

Jesse pushed himself up and pulled his bag off, setting it in front of him as he sat against the rock wall.

“Alright, now, I'm not ‘bout to lie to you and say I got my first picks, but the books they had in the town down there were few and far between.”

“I do not mind,” Hanzo said. He was fighting not to look visibly excited, but he knelt down beside Jesse when he pulled out a small book. Light blue, beautifully crafted, and in somewhat good condition. It was quite unlike any of the well-used books that lay tattered on his shelves, threadbare from the unforgiving touch of his talons and yellow with age. He picked the book up lovingly, running his talons over the leather and gently opening the cover to read the inside. _Two Conditions For a Beating Heart,_ written by Felicity Snowbank, has been lauded among young women as the romance of the century, having sold over one hundred copies since its publication. It follows the life of a young Nora Baker, a simple peasant girl who faces the greatest challenge of her life when her father is killed in a freak carriage accident. She is left with no choice but to work at the castle, where she keeps running into the handsome, single Prince…

Hanzo couldn't say the premise was particularly interesting. He'd always been curious about romance and such whimsical human ideas, but never enough to ask Genji something so embarrassing as to bring him one. Nevertheless, he opened the book and began to read.

The main character, Nora, was clever and kind, but not enough to avoid making a mess of herself the first time she meets Prince Hamrick. She spills tea on him and herself, causing a commotion and resulting in the head maid banning her from letting the Prince see her again. And yet, as Nora walks through the gardens one sleepless night, she sees the Prince strolling by himself. She does her best to avoid being seen by him lest she gets fired, but he catches her hiding in an awkward position in the branches of a tree. Prince Hamrick, the bastard, seems to have a grudge against poor Nora as he refuses to help her down and instead watches her struggle to find purchase on the slippery bark. Suddenly, her foot slips, and she falls from the tree. Instincts taking over, Prince Hamrick extended his arms to try to catch her, but she was heavier than she looked he’s knocked to the ground. There was a tense moment after she had righted herself where they stare into each other's eyes and Nora can't help notice how full his mouth is and how sweet he smelled, like lavender and the iron smell of sword polish, and how thick his eyelashes were, like a girl's. Yet the feel of his hard chest under her hands was a firm - _very_ firm - confirmation that he was indeed a man. Prince Hamrick seemed in an equal state until he remembered himself and requested Nora get off, colour pinkening his cheeks. She obeyed quickly and tried helping him up as well, but he brushes her hands away.

Hanzo was disrupted by Jesse’s loud sneeze. He looked up and saw Jesse was still sitting against the rocks, rubbing his nose now but watching Hanzo with steady eyes. He smiled ruefully upon Hanzo's notice. “‘Scuse me,” he said.

Hanzo realized they had been sitting in the cold for some time without him realizing, and the human was looking rather pink and shivering.

“Shall we go inside?” he asked.

Jesse nodded gratefully and they went back into the warmth of the cave.

“I suppose I owe you an interview,” Hanzo said.

Jesse blinked in surprise. Climbing the mountain had stripped his mind of everything but making it to the top; even his purpose for coming back had flown his mind. His shock was quickly replaced by an eager excitement, and he wasted no time in pulling out his paper and pencil and sitting on the floor across from Hanzo.

“So, to start, how do you -"

Hanzo stopped him with a hand. “Let me make tea, first.”

Jesse was about to protest but bit his cheek and nodded. Hanzo’s smile was almost smug, and Jesse had the thought that he was making him wait on purpose. While Hanzo went about his slow tea making process - why'd he have to be so slow - and Jesse went over his priority questions. If Hanzo decided he'd grown tired of Jesse again, he'd be kicked out without a chance of any more questions and likely have to get another book. The thought of climbing that mountain again made him shudder. Even descending was a tricky business. He had to have his questions in order of least to most offensive and have distractions if something made Hanzo too aggressive.

Finally Hanzo returned to Jesse, handing him a steaming cup and sitting with the grace of royalty, despite his rags and home.

Jesse opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. The thought of Hanzo as royalty hadn't occurred to him til now, but of everything he'd learned of the dragonborn so far, nothing fit him as well. Hanzo was basically the prince of this mountain, son of what many consider a divine beast, with power few could come close to. He had little doubt that Hanzo himself considered himself highly, and expected appropriate treatment. All of this formed a new theory in Jesse's mind on the best way to be on the dragonborn’s good side.

He sat in silence with Hanzo, who was swirling his tea around, examining the single leaf floating on top. Jesse was no expert in royalty etiquette, but he knew enough to wait for Hanzo to take a sip before taking one himself.

Hanzo glanced at Jesse, an eyebrow raised. “Well then?”

Jesse smiled and put his cup down, picking up his notebook again and putting the pencil to the first line.

“I would like to know about your childhood.” It was a vague question, but it seemed safer to let Hanzo say what he wished before fishing for specifics.

Hanzo frowned, glancing at Jesse's notebook before saying, “From what I remember, I was quite savage. My main goal at that age was survival, seeing as my father left me here alone most of the time. It was not until I was older and had established source of food and protection that I was able to… calm down, I suppose.”

“Why… your father left you alone? As a little kid?”

Hanzo waved a hand. “I was fine. It is how he could see if I was worth keeping alive. If I couldn't hunt a few ducks, how could I uphold his legacy?”

“Now, you're sayin' a kid has nothing to offer if he can't kill? That’s…” Jesse faltered when Hanzo's scowl deepened. “I mean, who am I to judge. Just seems a little extreme, is all.”

“Another reason humans have become so weak. They treat every child as if it were a gift, only to have it grow into a disappointment. No offense.”

“None...taken?” Jesse shook his head to focus his thoughts. “Anyway. How did you come to live on this mountain?”

Hanzo stared into his tea cup as he spoke. “My mother never wanted to give me up,” he said. This shocked Jesse. No woman in their right mind would keep a dragonborn, lest it slay her family.

“Did she know what you are?”

Hanzo laughed dryly. “Of course; when a horned man beds you and you have his child, you are allowed little doubt.”

Jesse allows a sardonic expression before returning to business. “So why aren't you with her, then?”

“My father won the custody battle, as it were. He did not expect her to want to keep me, so he captured me by force. My mother followed him for miles before finding me here, but she was too late to curb my natural dragonborn instincts, and I reacted… violently to her attempts at a relationship. All the same, she stayed near all my life and settled in the nearby village. She married, and had a human child, but she never gave up on visiting me.”

“So what happened to her?”

Hanzo scraped a white line along the edge of his cup, retracing it again and again to a point where Jesse thought he might split it.

“She died. Incurable illness, I was told. It has been many years since then.”

Jesse couldn't help his wandering eyes glancing to the shrine in the corner, with the blanket and flower drawings placed carefully against it.

Hanzo followed his gaze and nodded in an unspoken affirmation. Jesse cleared his throat and took another sip of tea.

“You say you knew your half brother?”

“I will not speak of him.”

Jesse blinked. “Why not -"

“Do _not_ mention it again,” Hanzo growled, his pupils dilating to slits and staring Jesse down until he looked away.

“Understood,” he mumbled.

Hanzo settled back, almost visibly steaming, and Jesse understood he was about to lose his subject’s patience.

He shut his notebook and slowly leaned forward, eyes still downcast as he said, “You know, I've had a bit of a complicated family life m’self.”

Hanzo glanced back, curiosity overcoming his anger.

Jesse took that as a sign to go on. “My dad was in and out of our lives. Not to say he didn't support us, but the only work he could find was as a mercenary. Don't remember him as a bad guy, but he got himself killed when I was ‘round ten. Left us alone with my ma, and let me tell you, if she could’a given us kids away to a dragon, she'd do it without a goodbye.”

“She did not want you?” Hanzo asked, and Jesse’d be damned if he didn't look outright alarmed at the idea of it.

Jesse's chuckled. “Far from it. Me ‘n my kid siblings were hell on earth for that woman. I don't think we were naturally bad, mind you. I think even kids can see when they've been mistreated, and we were just acting out.”

“How many siblings do you have?” Hanzo asked, and Jesse thanked the heavens to see him begin to relax again.

“Well, I'm the oldest. Then there's Marty, he's a year younger. Then Joey and Abe are the youngest. Gosh, it's been a long time since I've seen those kids. Must be in their twenties by now.”

“You no longer see them?”

Jesse grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess you wouldn't be able to tell, but I ain't exactly from ‘round these parts. Crossed an ocean and a half before landin’ on this rock.”

Hanzo was fascinated by this information. “You're from the other side of the world?”

Jesse nodded.

Hanzo looked at him wistfully. “It feels foolish to admit, but I wish I could travel there one day.”

“What's foolish about that?” Jesse exclaimed.

Hanzo looked at the light blue book on the table. “My father would never allow it. He only tolerates my reading because it keeps my wanderlust satisfied. But, to tell the truth, books don't satisfy me the way they used to.”

“Hanzo, I hope I'm not overstepping here, but you shouldn't let anyone control your life. We only got one, so we should make it a life worth livin'.”

Hanzo stared at Jesse for too long, but Jesse didn't mind. He could tell his words were having an effect.

“Listen, Hanzo, I can help you, if you want. I'm stronger and smarter than I look. Anyone tries to mess with you, I'll deal with them one way or the other.”

Hanzo smiled. “The prospect of attack doesn't make the idea as appealing.”

“I won't lie: people aren't gonna like seeing you. There's a helluva lot of fear surrounding dragonkind. But I think if I can get you back to the University, we can convince the scholars that you ain't as bad as they think, and everyone listens to those geezers. That way it'll be easier for you to travel; you could go anywhere you want!”

Hanzo found he couldn't look away from Jesse’s eyes. Somehow their shine had been filled with promises; of adventure and learning and things he couldn't even imagine. There was so much he didn't know, so many places he wanted to see. Was the desert really an ocean of sand, moving like waves you could walk on? Was there an end to the glittering sea in Amari’s Travel Log, or did it go forever like she said? He could scarcely imagine these things outside of his books, though he knew they must be real.

But reality struck him like a slap when he saw his reflection in Jesse’s crystalline eyes. The horns ears and teeth were not just a feature for him. They were a contract. Father would never allow him to leave. He would hunt him down if he tried, so what was the point?

He forced himself to look away, into his empty cup. The leaves looked a bit like a flower, he thought.

“It is a nice thought, Jesse McCree. Thank you for the offer. But I can not.”

Some of the light dimmed in Jesse's eyes, and the change was so apparent that it made Hanzo's gut twinge.

“Are you sure? Why?”

“My life is not my own, despite your fanciful ideas. Perhaps it is just another difference between our kind.”

Jesse looked like he was about to press, but he stopped himself and smiled, sad and regretful. “Was a long shot anyway, huh.”

Hanzo hated that expression. “Get on with your interview, then,” he demanded, waving his hand at the notebook.

Jesse looked down at the book in his lap like he'd forgot it was there. “Right. Okay,” he stalled, flipping through the pages until he reached his question sheet. “Well, I've been wonderin’ ‘bout that tattoo on your arm, there.”

Hanzo looked at the blue dragon mark on in his arm with confusion.

“This is not a tattoo,” he said. “It’s a birthmark.”

“Really? Does your -”

Hanzo held up a hand suddenly, cutting Jesse off, his ears flicking back and forth.

“Oh, no,” he said, looking at Jesse with actual fear in his silver eyes.

Jesse could barely swallow enough to say, “What is it? Don't tell me…”

Hanzo nodded before quickly standing, knocking his tea cup to the ground, though he didn't seem to notice.

“My father has come to visit. Quickly, you must hide.”

Jesse didn't hesitate to stand and allow Hanzo to push him into the closet. Jesse was greeted by the musty smell of moth ravaged wool, and turned to see Hanzo with arms spread wide holding the closet doors.

“Whatever you do, do not make a sound. He will hear the slightest movement.”

Jesse nodded, and finally hearing the steady thumping beat of huge wings closing in on them, breaks out in cold sweat.

Hanzo put a firm hand on his chest, which was enough to shock Jesse out of a panic attack.

“Quiet your heart. It's beating so hard I'm worried it might burst out.”

Jesse laughed despite the situation. “I'll do my best.”

Hanzo patted him. “Deep breaths. I've done this before.”

Jesse wanted to ask, “with your mother and brother?” but a huge boom shook all thoughts from his head as Hanzo's father landed before the front door.


	4. Gothlen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a long chapter, but I couldn't leave y'all with any more cliffhangers.

Hanzo shut the closet door on Jesse's face and rushed to the entrance, kicking Jesse's bag under the table as an afterthought. He cast his eyes about for any other evidence of the human, but he had no time to clean, because at that moment the door was scraped aside by a huge claw, and his father's maw curled around the wood, red hot eyes glaring at Hanzo. He pushed the rest of the way in, taking up the entirety of the entrance. Smoke puffed from between his ivory teeth with every huff of breath.

And so there stood Gothlen, dragon of the Spines Pass, scourge of travelers and general of the Arctic War. Hanzo stood straight and unflinching as his father glared down at him, until the beast craned it's neck back and made a scraping chuckle. Smoke billowed from Gothlen’s feet, devouring his body and shrinking him until it dissipated, revealing a tall and stark naked man, still chuckling. 

“Ha ha, my son, it has been too long since I have visited you. The war in the Arctic is reaching its peak! You are lucky I made time to come back.”

“Welcome, Father,” Hanzo said, already offering the heavy black robe he kept around for this very purpose. “Did you have a good flight?”

Gothlen shrugged on the robe, looking around disinterestedly at Hanzo's collection. “Yes, fine. Anyways, so, what have you been up to, hmm? Any big kills? You did look into that bear I told you was in the forest, didn't you? Did you kill it?”

Hanzo held back an impatient sigh. “No, Father, I told you: I have no need for so much meat. It would spoil before I could finish it.”

“Pah!” said Gothlen. “You're too sensible for your age, my boy. You should be out there, having fun, killing everything that moves! That was how I spent my youth, after all, and I wouldn't trade those days for the world. Made me strong!”

“Yes, Father,” Hanzo murmured. 

“Burn a few more logs, won't you? I'm cold as ice in this form.”

Hanzo obeyed mechanically, retrieving some quick burners from his pile. Jesse was doing a fine job keeping quiet so far, but Hanzo could still hear the faint drum of his heart, fast as a rabbit's. Thankfully his father wasn't paying attention. 

“Have the tides finally turned in the arctic?” Hanzo asked.

Father clapped his hands above his head and leaned back in Hanzo's chair. “Ah, my boy, you have no idea! Those cursed snow fae are no match to our fire, even with all their magic. It was just a matter of endurance, and no one is stronger than us dragons, eh, haha!”

Hanzo mumbled his assent. Father and almost all the dragons of the South had been trying to take the mountains of the arctic for their breeding grounds. Living so close to the humans had its dangers, especially concerning the young dragons. Humans were infamous for hunting dragon children for sport, and them being so young were foolish enough to fight back. Unfortunately the North was already occupied, and its residents weren't willing to give up their home, even for such an important cause. 

“Do you smell that?” asked Gothlen.

Hanzo froze up. “Smell what?” he asked carefully. 

Gothlen stood, sniffing the air. “What a foul smell. Did you bring a pet in here again?”

Hanzo had to force himself not to laugh. That's exactly what Jesse was. “No, of course not.”

Gothlen was still searching for the source of the scent, and he was closing in on Jesse's hiding spot. This had never happened with Mother or Genji, but they hadn't smelled as badly as Jesse. Father had seen the closet and was walking towards it. Hanzo had to distract him, somehow.

“Father, I have something to tell you.”

He stopped and looked back. “What are you hiding from me, my son? I won't be angry, I promise. But you know you can't keep pets up here. It's cruel to them and to me if you don't allow me to eat it,” he said with a razor sharp smile, running his tongue over his teeth. 

Hanzo shook his head. “No, it's not that. I... I want to leave this place.”

Father squinted in confusion before laughing out loud.

“You want to hunt, right now? I suppose I am a bit hungry, long flight and all that. But you know I won't let you keep a pet no matter if I'm hungry or not, eh?”

Hanzo shook his head. “No, Father. I want to leave this mountain.”

Father's smile was stuck on his face. “You know you're allowed to roam the forest as you please! This land is yours, my son.”

“No, Father -"

“Now let's see what it is this time. A pig? A fox? Or did you find a cat? Those really are the sweetest creatures, maybe I should bring you one.”

“I want to travel the world,” Hanzo said. His voice was level, but his words struck across the room like a thunderclap.

Gothlen turned slowly from the closet, dropping his hand from the knob, and stared at Hanzo, all merriment gone from his red eyes. 

“No, you don't, my boy.”

“Why? I've been living here all my life. I hate this existence. I want to learn. I want to travel.” 

“You are still a child. I told you, once you reach a century of life, I will consider you an adult. But you are barely past thirty years! No, I will speak of it no longer.”

“But Father, I'm ready -"

Gothlen billowed up like a cobra, smoke puffing from his mouth as he shouted, “I _said_ **_no_** **_MORE_**!”

Hanzo thought he might strike him, but he put his arm down and deflated a bit, though he still stood tense and arched, like his wings were about to burst from his back. He walked towards Hanzo and brushed a lock of hair from his face, then gripped his arms tightly as he stared into his eyes. 

“My son, I have to be honest with you. It is a dangerous world out there. I have been protecting you by keeping you here. There are many who would kill you if they saw you. Have I ever told you of your brother and sister?”

Hanzo blinked in surprise. “I have siblings?”

Gothlen shook his head gravely. “They were killed. By humans.”

Hanzo glanced at the closet, then back to his father. 

“It won't be the same. I have educated myself, Father. I can find a way.”

Gothlen's fingers tightened painfully on Hanzo's arms.

“Educated? That is your answer? My children were smart as well, boy, but a _book_ does not stop an arrow through the skull. They were careful, too, but that didn't stop the hunters from sneaking up on them in their sleep and chopping them to bits! Do you know why they take our heads, boy? Do you?”

Hanzo did nothing but stare up at his father. 

Gothlen pushed Hanzo away with a growl. “Education, he says. I knew those books were toxic, and yet I allowed you to keep them. I was foolish.”

He stormed to the bookcase and started pulling books out and tossing them to the ground. 

“What are you doing?" Hanzo asked, a ball of panic rising up his throat at the sight of his already delicate books being tossed about.

Gothlen ignored him, still muttering to himself as he tore the books from the shelf. Hanzo protested some more and tried to wrestle his father away from his books, but Gothlen simply shoved him aside and Hanzo was sent across the room, hitting the wall with a thump. 

Hanzo found he could do nothing but watch his books being tossed in the center of the room, a numb feeling that started in his stomach taking over. He tried to tell himself this wasn't happening, Father was just being dramatic as usual. Yet he watched Gothlen change shape once more, his tail whipping his furniture to pieces, knocking cups off his carefully placed shelves. He watched his father turn so that his head was angled towards the pile of splayed books, and the jet of flame aimed towards the precious pages was almost too bright to look at. Nevertheless, Hanzo watched, though he was starting to wonder if he was in fact dreaming. He felt as though he was watching this from outside his body after all. 

Once the books were blazing nicely, Gothlen turned towards Hanzo, his vicious maw a permanent twisted smile. 

“ _Never ask to leave again_ ,” he growled, before turning away and knocking Hanzo's plank aside so he could soar from the cave, smoke still trailing behind him. 

Hanzo staggered to the entrance to stare at his receding shape, seeing him dive down in the forest. He would be back after he had calmed down, and he would expect Hanzo to be on his knees begging forgiveness. Hanzo thought bleakly of Jesse; he had to get him out before Gothlen’s return. But instead Hanzo stood on the cliff's edge, eyes glazed over, the heat of the fire at his back and the chill of the wind on his toes the only feeling in him. 

“Ho, shit! Fire! Hanzo, your place is on fire!”

Hanzo ignored Jesse. He had nothing left, not even his dictionary. What would he do with his life now? Hunt as his father ordered? He was starting to think that he really had read too much. His head was filled with high aspirations, and now even the simple needs for life seemed dull and insignificant. 

Jesse, meanwhile, was staggering about the room, searching for his things. The dragon hadn't burned them too, had he? Thankfully he found his bag under the table, and underneath that the little blue book he got Hanzo. He picked it up and looked at the blazing pile that was once Hanzo's library. This was the last book he had left, a stupid romance novel of all things. He would make an effort to bring Hanzo more sophisticated novels if he ever came back. In the closet he had been swearing he would never return, damn earth breaking discoveries or not. His hands were still shaking with the adrenaline that had pumped through his body when his cover was almost blown; imagining himself on that pyre of tomes made him return to that ‘fuck this’ mindset for a second more. But then he looked at Hanzo at the cave entrance, despondent and alone. Jesse had heard everything, after all. There was no way he wasn't coming back. 

He walked up behind Hanzo, trying to make his steps as loud as possible so he wouldn't alarm the dragonborn by sneaking up on him. Hanzo didn't even look up. 

“Here,” Jesse said, holding out the book. “Think this one’s the only survivor.”

Hanzo slowly looked at the book in Jesse’s outstretched hand, a frown dressing his brow. He reached out and took it gently, running his talons over the leather. Jesse felt another jolt of recognition when he saw the obvious humanity fighting with his alien features. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to those horns and teeth on such a beautiful face.

Hanzo looked up at Jesse, a confused expression still on his face, but to Jesse’s surprised, he smiled, small and wondering. He looked back at the book and fanned through the pages, seeing them all white and undamaged. 

“I'll do it,” he said.

Jesse blinked. “Do what?” 

“I'll go with you. To the University.”

He turned his eyes on Jesse, full of strength and hard won hope. “There's nothing left for me here, now.”

Jesse smiled, broad and unbelieving. “Well, hell, that's great!”

Hanzo slammed the book shut and pushed it back into Jesse's hands. “We must leave now. My father will be back soon.”

Jesse felt the prick of fear stab all his nerves. “Whoa, now, shouldn't we wait til he's cleared out?”

“I cannot bear to look at him again. It will be better this way. Quickly, the sun will be setting.”

Jesse had no choice but to follow him down the mountain. The descent was worse than the ascent only because he couldn't see where he was putting his feet, but Hanzo went below him and guided his movements with surprising patience, though he did once bark up at him, “How did you get down before when you are so afraid?”

Jesse laughed, assessing what Hanzo said was a perfectly capable jump, but looked to him like it might twist an ankle at best. 

“Guess I was in better spirits that time,” he said. He had been rather brave with the joyful prospect of interviewing Hanzo, and wanted to get that book for him as soon as possible. Oh, the things he could do when he wasn't thinking. 

“Maybe I should just go ‘round the other way. Think I see an easier path over there.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Hanzo snapped. “That will take too long. Here, jump, and I'll catch you.”

He held up his arms encouragingly. Jesse was sure he was strong enough to not topple over, but he needed a moment to pace back and forth to gain his courage. 

“Promise you’ll catch me?”

“I promise.”

Jesse breathed deeply, and jumped. True to his word, Hanzo caught him. Unfortunately, Jesse had a little more velocity than he was expecting, and Hanzo began to fall back. Off the mountain. 

Jesse yelled, Hanzo cursed, and they held on tightly to each other as they rolled down the rocky cliffside. Hanzo got the worst of the bumps, but when they cleared the slope and landed on flat earth, Jesse was the one to be crushed by Hanzo as he slammed firmly on his back. 

Hanzo and Jesse groaned in unison, and Hanzo punched Jesse's chest.

“Stupid… heavy… stinking human,” he growled. His fist paused on Jesse’s chest. This was achingly familiar. 

Jesse was stuck in a position like a beetle stuck on it's back, eyes squeezed shut as if he could block out the pain that way. 

“Think I broke something,” he wheezed. 

Hanzo couldn't place the feeling, but as he looked at Jesse he couldn't help noticing the smart curve of his mouth, much better suited for smiling than frowning, and the soft locks of his brown hair, grey with dust and dirt, and the feel of his chest under Hanzo's splayed hand, so warm and solid under the cotton of his shirt.

Jesse had opened his eyes now and was looking at Hanzo, expression pained and impatient. “Any day, now,” he wheezed. 

Hanzo flinched away, his cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. There was no feeling he hated more, and he sprung like Jesse was on fire to get away. 

“Hold on, I’m a need a second to recover,” Jesse said, getting to his feet with some labour and clutching his backside. 

Hanzo ignored him and continued walking away.

“Hey! You hear me? I ain't as indestructible as you!”

Hanzo felt more like burrowing in a hole than responding, so he kept walking, fists clenched so tightly he drew blood. What had come over him? He really had to stop reading so much; just one romance novel had him deluding himself into thinking that the human was… he couldn't bear to even think it.

Jesse was limping along behind him still, apparently actually having injured himself in the fall. Hanzo stopped so Jesse could catch up and glared hotly at him.

“Are you okay?” he snapped. 

Jesse leaned back, a hurt expression on his face. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

Hanzo squinted at Jesse, shoulders hunching up aggressively. “And what does that mean?”

“You said you could catch me!”

“I did not expect you to come flying at me like a diving goose!” 

Jesse huffed at the comparison. “So _ rry _ . Didn't realize you wanted me to float down like a fairy!”

“I never said that! You could have made that jump regardless of my help or not. Just because you're too  _ cowardly - _ "

“Don't you start with -"

They were both cut off by an ear splitting roar from the cave up above. Gothlen had returned, and was not happy to find his son missing. Jesse and Hanzo watched a plume of fire explode from the cave mouth, and jumped to run under the cover of a tree when he soared from the entrance, head already swiveling back and forth in search of Hanzo. 

“Shit, Hanzo, what d’we do?”

Hanzo didn't take his eyes off the shape soaring through the sky. He put a silencing hand towards Jesse until Gothlen was out of sight, then turned towards him with serious eyes. 

“Just follow my lead, and try to be very quiet. He is hunting for us now.”

“Don't say it like  _ that, _ ” Jesse said with a nervous, wide eyed expression.

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “How else am I meant to say it?”

“I dunno, you could say he's searchin’, lookin’, wishin’, wantin’, but huntin’ is a bit severe!”

Hanzo set him with a firm look. “Yet it is the most fitting.”

Jesse set his mouth in a thin line. He hated how cowardly he was looking in front of Hanzo, but he couldn't help it. Not jumping a neck breaking height and being afraid of murderous dragons were just common sense for him; he didn't have the luxury of super strength like Hanzo, and unlike Hanzo, the thing hunting them wasn't his father. Gothlen would probably eat Jesse to teach Hanzo a lesson, then send him back to his cave with a good spanking and a finger wave. 

They crept through the forest slowly, jumping at every odd noise or shadow. Every once and a while Gothlen would soar right above them, during which they'd find cover from his sharp eyes. Sometimes they'd hear him roar from somewhere nearby, which Hanzo said was a searching call dragons made for their children. It was almost sad, if it wasn't so terrifying. 

The sun was starting to set, casting beautiful colors between the leaves of the maple and spruce trees, but even the magic of that hour quickly left as the forest became darker and darker until Jesse could barely see. He told Hanzo as much when he tripped over a root - four times - upon which Hanzo grabbed Jesse roughly by the wrist and dragged him along behind him. 

“So,” Jesse stage whispered, “you got night vision?”

Hanzo snorted. “Are we still undergoing the interview, McCree?”

“Well, I never got my full hour,” he said, and Hanzo didn't know how, but he could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yes, sorry about that.”

“I still don't understand how he almost found me out. Didn't you say you've had guests in your closet before?”

“Well, you have an unusually strong stink compared to my brother.”

“Hey, ya can't expect a man to climb a mountain and not sweat a little,” Jesse protested. 

Hanzo chuckled quietly. “A little?” he said to himself. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I can't see entirely in the dark, but evidently it is advanced compared to humans. The moonlight through the trees is sufficient for me to see the way.”

“Incredible,” Jesse said, oblivious to the way it made Hanzo flush. 

“ _I can_ _smell you.”_

Both men froze. Hanzo hadn't even heard his father descend, but now that he was paying attention, he could tell that he was in the clearing directly ahead of them. As one they crouched behind a bush, though Hanzo knew that wouldn't save them if Gothlen had found their scent already.

“ _ You can't be serious, boy. _ ” 

Gothlen’s voice carried through the trees, rough and guttural from his bestial throat. 

“ _ All I want is to see you alive. Is that so wrong?” _

Hanzo tugged on Jesse's hand to keep moving - when had they locked fingers anyway - and started creeping around the edge of his father's location. They had to reach the road, or find a spot to hide til Gothlen gave up. 

Hanzo could see Gothlen through the trees now, his metallic scales glinting silver in the moonlight, creeping through the trees just as they did, searching for them. They carried on, creeping forward as quickly as they could, hands clasped more for comfort than necessity now.

Finally, Hanzo could see the final barrier keeping them from escape: the river, ten feet wide, with a rapid current. 

“We have to get across,” Hanzo told Jesse, who nodded and for once took the lead, hopping on the first rock jutting from the water. 

“Careful, now, they're pretty slippery,” he said.

Hanzo nodded and carefully took his first jump. This was the farthest he'd ever been from the mountain, and that knowledge filled him with a sickening excitement.

Jesse continued to show him the best path, pointing out wobbly rocks and the treacherous river weed covered ones.

Eventually Jesse made it across and had turned to give Hanzo encouragement. He was going slowly, but not because he was afraid of slipping. Once he crossed this river, it would be the true end to his old life. No more safety and seclusion. No more visits from his father. Was this really the best idea?

“Hanzo, look out!”

Hanzo looked up in time to see the claw slam into his face. Gothlen soared from above, knocking Hanzo into the water. He was carried away with the current for a few burning breaths when the claws grabbed him around the middle, lifting him to the air with a splash and throwing him on the ground. He rolled a few paces before the claw grabbed him again, pinning him to the ground. He looked up and saw Gothlen looming above him, bloodlust in his glowing eyes.

“ _ How dare you, _ ” he growled. “ _ Disobey your own father? Foolish boy. Where were you going to go with no family or friends? _ ”

Hanzo risked looking at Jesse, but the spot he had been was empty. Of course, the coward had run away. What did Hanzo really expect? He was glad Jesse had escaped, for he knew Gothlen would be happy to rip his head off right now. All the same, his heart hurt at the loss of what could have been his only chance at a fulfilling life. 

“Please, father, forgive me,” Hanzo choked out. 

Gothlen lasted a beat before throwing back his head and letting out a vibrating laugh. 

“ _ Forgiveness is something you must earn, child. I know. You want to see the world? Let's start with the arctic. I'm sure ripping the heads of some fae will show you what sort of son I expect you to be. _ ”

Hanzo could barely handle the coldest days in the South; surely he would freeze to death in the North. He was about to say as much when something appeared over Gothlen’s shoulder, and struck him over the head with a rock. Gothlen reeled away, releasing Hanzo so that he could sit up and scramble away. When he looked back he saw Jesse jump on the stunned dragons back and wrap his arms around his neck, holding his left forearm against Gothlen's throat and bracing it with his right hand. Gothlen thrashed wildly, flapping his wings only to get them caught in the boughs of a pine tree. He threw himself onto his side, but Jesse held on, his face dark and determined. It seemed like it took no time at all and srill an eternity before Gothlen’s eyes rolled back and he lay still. 

Jesse lay panting for a few moments before struggling to his feet and rushing to Hanzo. 

“Hanzo! Hanzo? Are you alright? Did he hurt you anywhere?”

Hanzo was stuck staring wide eyed at his father's limp form. 

“Shit, you're soaked! You must be freezing,” Jesse worried, and took of his own serape to hang around Hanzo's shoulders. 

“Is he… dead?” Hanzo asked haltingly. 

Jesse looked back at Gothlen in alarm.

“No, no, no, did I kill him? Did I just kill a dragon? No, no, no." He rushed back to Gothlen and put a cautious hand on his chest, brows furrowed and mumbling a prayer. Suddenly his face broke into an expression of relief.

“Thank God, he's alive. I just choked him out.” Jesse paused upon hearing his own words. “I just choked out a dragon? My Lord, I just choked out a dragon.”

Hanzo sighed in relief. After this night, he didn't know what his father’s death would do to his sanity. He didn't realize Jesse had come back to kneel beside him until a warm hand gripped his own. 

“It's okay, Hanzo. We're gonna be okay.”

Hanzo scowled at Jesse in response. “You fool.”

Jesse blinked. “What’d I do now?”

“Why did you come back? You are  _ unbelievably  _ lucky he didn't notice you sneak up on him.”

“Oh, Hanzo, I never left. You thought I was just gonna leave you behind?”

Hanzo glared into Jesse's eyes a moment more, searching for what, he didn't know. Deceit? Insincerity? He found neither. 

Hanzo huffed and got to his feet, noting a sore spot where he had been thrown on his back, but nothing serious otherwise. 

“We should go,” he said, wrapping Jesse's serape around him more tightly. Jesse nodded and started picking his way across the river again. Hanzo stopped by his father's unconscious body and knelt down. 

“I'm sorry, Father, but I must do this,” he said softly before following after Jesse, his steps on the wet rocks much surer than before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I could have had Gothlen break out into a male version of "Mother Knows Best" I would have. To be continued!


	5. Hovvenstek

Morning came with the sweet sound of birds chirping. All the creatures in the forest were calm and at one with nature in a continuous cycle of life and death that moved as slowly as the sun across the sky. There was a slight breeze passing through the trees that danced with the grass and blew the morning mist away so that the sunrise was clear above the mountaintops. As the sky grew brighter, the chill of the night began to settle into a fresh spring day. A squirrel was being born somewhere, probably.

Jesse flicked a bug off his knee. He was having a pretty bad morning so far despite the beauty of his surroundings. His ass was wet from making the mistake of sitting on the dew fresh grass, he was shivering after Hanzo had run off with his serape, and there was an owl in the tree right across from him that he _knew_ was staring at him. He was tired from a sleepless night trekking the forest, and the hunger which had been so easy to ignore while he was being hunted by a dragon and hurried along by it's son had gnawed through his stomach and was grinding on his spine now, begging to be fed.

Hanzo had declared he would hunt when Jesse had pleaded they take a break from walking, and disappeared into the trees before Jesse could say anything else. He hoped Hanzo would bring him something, but realizing he didn't have any fire starting tools, wondered if Hanzo thought he would eat raw meat. He shivered at the thought. Jesse distracted himself by taking stock of his pack. He had already eaten the sparse bag of bread and apples that he bought in town; they'd have to restock as soon as possible. And then, after much frantic searching, he realized he must have left his notebook in Hanzo's cave. He had preserved his only samples of the _pulsu cordis_ between the pages. Hopefully he'd be able to find some more on the journey home, otherwise Angela would beat his ass.

Hanzo returned when the sun had warmed Jesse a bit and he had started to doze off against the tree. He (gently) kicked Jesse awake and held out his hands for Jesse to take the offered food. Jesse looked stupidly at the nuts and fruit in his talons and up at Hanzo.

“This for me?” he grumbled, grogginess clouding his mind.

Hanzo rolled his eyes impatiently. “Obviously.”

Hanzo dumped the food into Jesse's hand and sat across from him.

“Eat quickly so we can continue,” he ordered.

Jesse obeyed dully, but became ravenous once he was reminded of how hungry he was.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

Hanzo was cleaning his talons in the stream. “Of course,” he said.

Jesse could only assume he had found something with a little more protein than fruit and nuts.

“Well. Thank you.”

Hanzo glanced at him, then turned away. “You are welcome.”

Jesse finished his meager meal still hungry, but not dangerously so.

“We should talk plan,” he said.

Hanzo nodded and turned so he was sitting cross legged facing Jesse, using his talons to work out the kinks in his long black hair

“What do you suggest?”

“Well, we have to go to the town nearby to stock up and hopefully find some transportation. There's no way in hell we're walking to Numura. But first, you need a disguise.”

Hanzo tipped his head with a quirked eyebrow. “What happened to protecting me from those who questioned my presence?”

Jesse gave him a stern look. “I meant if you get caught. There's nothin’ smart ‘bout inviting conflict for no reason. And this way, if people think you're human, they'll be more likely to talk to you! You can meet all sorts travelin'.”

Hanzo wrinkled his nose at the idea of _meeting_ people. Nonetheless he allowed Jesse to dress him in his spare clothes, putting the hood of his serape over his horns and covering his tattoo and all other obviously dragon bits in whatever scrap of clothing he had. He observed his final product with a critical eye.

“Well, people will probably think you're a beggar, but we can find you something nicer in Hovvenstek.”

Hanzo did not like the idea of being seen so lowly, but he had no choice. He could pitied and ignored or feared and attacked.

Very soon they reached the King’s Road and began to kick up dust there. Hanzo kept taking the hood off, claiming it was too hot in the full sun of the day, though Jesse urged him to keep it on in case they came across another traveler. Sure enough a cart came rolling their way, laden with timber and driven by an old man and his grandson.

Jesse stopped to talk to them about the road ahead while Hanzo stood to the side uncomfortably. The little boy was staring at him. He didn't like it. He glowered at the child, but that didn't stop the staring. Finally Jesse said goodbye and they parted ways. Once they were out of ear shot, Hanzo grabbed Jesse's arm and whispered, “Why was that child staring at me?”

Jesse raised his eyebrows and glanced back at the cart. “Was he?”

Hanzo squeezed Jesse's arm. “Yes! Do you think he saw through my disguise?”

Jesse chuckled and patted his hand. “Naw, he probably just thought you were pretty.”

Hanzo scowled and pulled away. “Enough of you.”

Jesse just grinned.

It was late in the afternoon when they came upon the little town called Paygat. It was a thriving town despite its size, for it stood as a checkpoint for travelers going through the Spine’s Pass.

“Okay, here's the plan. I'm gonna get us rooms at the inn, and we can see if there's anyone headed to the city tomorrow that we can hitch a ride with. Sound good?”

“Fine, but I should go hunt before it gets dark.”

He turned away to go back into the trees, but Jesse grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Don't be like that. You're among humans now, my friend; I think it's ‘bout time you tried some human food.”

Hanzo looked unsure, but consented to following Jesse into the inn. It was a crowded place, and he was glad for the face covering, or he might have gagged at the smell of all the dirty human bodies stuffed inside. They received a few disinterested glances from the patrons, but otherwise no one seemed to care about their presence.

Jesse walked confidently up to the bar and placed a couple of coins on the counter.

“Two rooms, please,” he said. “And he'll take supper in his room.”

The man handed them the keys and went to shout at the cook in the back. Jesse turned back to Hanzo, handing him his key.

“This is yours. Just head up the stairs and find the room with the number on the key. Supper’'ll be up in a bit so keep yourself covered, ‘kay?”

Hanzo nodded.

“I'm gonna hang ‘round down here for a bit. I'll check on you before I settle down, though. See ya in a bit.”

Hanzo hesitated, looking at the key in his hand. He didn't want Jesse to leave him, but he didn't know how to tell him so without sounding like a child, so he turned and went up the stairs, having the uncomfortable sensation of being watched despite the fact that no one seemed to be paying him any mind.

The door opened to the key as promised, and Hanzo slipped in, locking the knob behind him with a sigh. This was too overwhelming. He had a desperate craving to read something, anything, and allow himself to be taken out of this world for a minute, but Jesse still had _Two Conditions for a Beating Heart,_ and Hanzo didn't have the courage to go back downstairs to get it.

He paced about instead, looking at the little lodgings with a distant curiosity. It was a spartan room, all brown wood and dull colours. There was a dirty mirror over the washbasin, and he examined his disguised reflection in it. He had to admit, with his dragon bits covered, he almost passed for human, though he didn't know if his silver cat-like eyes were common among humans or not. There was a knock on the door, making him jump. Hanzo opened the door a crack, peering out at the old man holding a tray with soup, bread, and a cup of dark red liquid in it. He shoved the tray into Hanzo's hand without a word and trudged away. Hanzo relocked the door and sat with his meal at the little table. It smelled like spices and meat, and the bread was a bit chewy, but when he soaked it in the broth, it became more manageable. He had tried human food before when Genji brought him honey cakes from the town fair, but he still preferred raw meat. Something about the flavour of cooked meat just wasn't as satisfying to him.

He sipped at the red liquid experimentally, but stuck out his tongue at the flavour. It was somehow sour and sweet at the same time.

There was another knock at the door and he quickly went to put on his disguise before he heard Jesse call out, “Hanzo? It's me.”

He relaxed and opened the door for Jesse to come inside.

Jesse seemed even larger in the small room, and he had to duck his head to get through the door. Hanzo was glad to see that Jesse was simply abnormally tall for humans as opposed to Hanzo being short.

“Like your dinner?” he asked, seeing the empty bowl.

Hanzo shrugged. “It was adequate. But that drink is foul.”

Jesse quirked an eyebrow and sniffed the cup curiously. “It's just wine? Bit of an acquired taste, I suppose.”

Jesse sat on the bed, looking awkward and like he had something to say. Hanzo stared at him looking about the room until he grew impatient.

“What is it?”

Jesse took a breath and steeled himself for the news he was about to deliver.

“People are saying - and you know, there's no proof, it's just rumours right now. Um, well, they say a dragon has been seen in the Spine’s Pass, and apparently it's been on a bit of a rampage. Started a couple forest fires. Killed some travelers. They say it's traveling south.”

Hanzo's mouth set in a grim line. “Gothlen.”

Jesse nodded. “He's not gonna give up on us, huh.”

Hanzo put his head in his hands with a groan.

“This was a stupid idea. Why did I listen to you? He's gonna catch up soon, and even if he doesn't, he will cause destruction until he's killed. I should go back before something terrible happens.”

Jesse rushed to kneel by his side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“No, come on, none of that. This was the right choice! Imagine what you'd be doing right now if you stayed.”

Hanzo agreed that his life would be a miserable existence, but that didn't change the fact that his father was putting himself in terrible danger by terrorizing the humans like this.

“Anyways, I got good news too!” Jesse exclaimed. “There's a merchant willing to take us to the city first thing tomorrow. I'll wake you up with breakfast, then we gotta be off at first light or he'll leave us behind. Just put your tray outside and someone’ll come pick it up. I'm in the room right beside yours if ya need anything, alright?”

Hanzo nodded and Jesse went to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob and looked back at Hanzo.

“You're gonna be okay, alright? I'm sure this must be somethin’ of a culture shock, but I'm here for you. We're in it together. Good night,” he said, and left.

Hanzo sat for a while, listening to Jesse go into his own room and lock the door before kicking his shoes off and lying down in bed. It wasn't long before he could hear Jesse's soft snoring. He must have been very tired to fall asleep so quickly.

Hanzo stood to shove the tray out into the hallway, and then shut his door and locked it, double checking and triple checking to make sure it was really secure. Finally at ease, he lay in the bed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. The mattress was lumpy and thin, stuffed with straw likely, and he felt homesick for his cave all of a sudden. It was cold and sometimes damp, and he was lonely up there, but it had been home. After some minutes of staring at the ceiling he got up and retrieved Jesse's serape from where he’d draped it on the chair, telling himself he was too cold and needed an extra layer.

 

Morning came too quickly as Jesse was banging on his door before the sun had even lit his room. Jesse stood outside with a tray laden with a leg of meat and a hunk of bread and cheese, offering it as breakfast, and he sat on Hanzo's bed, shaking his leg impatiently as Hanzo ate groggily. Once he'd swallowed the last bite Jesse dressed him in his slapdash disguise, then hurried him downstairs to shove on the back of a cart. The driver whipped the reigns immediately, and they began their journey.

“Whew, made it,” Jesse exclaimed, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it.

Hanzo glared with tired anger at his human guide and settled himself on to the wooden bench, arms crossed over his chest. There were two other passengers on the cart, two men that sat sleeping, hats over their eyes.

As Hanzo watched the little town recede into the distance, he realized something that had been on the edge of his mind up til now. That was the place where his mother and brother had lived. Genji's father might have been one of the men in the tavern. The thought of his human family, walking those streets, mingling in that tavern, gave him a bittersweet melancholy that he barely squashed down by looking at the road ahead instead.

Jesse reached for the bag tucked between his feet and pulled out Hanzo's book, handing it to him.

“It's gonna be a long ride,” he said. “Might be a good idea to distract yourself a while.”

Hanzo took the book gratefully, opening to the page he left off on and reading hungrily.

In the world of Nora and Prince Hamrick, it is festival night. For weeks the entire castle had been frantically preparing for the arrival of hundreds of dignitaries from across the land, Nora included. But for the feast itself she is confined to her rooms by the head maid lest she spill or break something else. Nora can't stand for that, of course, and makes it her mission to sneak out of the palace and into the town so she can have some fun this festival night. She makes it as far as the garden wall where she's climbing a rope to get over, when a familiar, strong voice calls out to her, asking what she thinks she's doing. She looks down to see none other than Prince Hamrick, standing in his fine liverie and looking up at her with a smile. She almost falls again, but catches herself and glares down at him. We have to stop meeting like this, says Prince Hamrick. Nora turns up her nose, still sore from his rude treatment of her, and says she was just leaving, thank you very much. To her surprise, the Prince says he'd like to join her. Why, she asks. He responds that he finds the royal banquets so dull; he'd much prefer being among the common folk. She allows him to climb up the rope after her, and they land unscathed on the other side. She comments that he'll get jumped in his fine clothing, and so he strips his jacket, revealing nothing but a white shirt that bulges against his muscles, and hands the coat to a beggar. The wide eyed thanks of the beggar is received with humble excuses. Nora had no idea he could be so giving. They walk together to Nora’s favourite pub and find a seat, drinking and talking late into the night. Nora is surprised how easy it is to talk to him, and she ultimately forgets she's with royalty when she punches his arm after a particularly bad joke. She apologizes but he takes her hands and tells her it's refreshing to be treated normally. She's not sure if it's just the wine or something deeper, but they lean in and kiss, deep and sweet. He grabs her head, causing the ribbon holding her hair to fall off, and grasps her waist with large hot hands. Somehow she is pulled onto his lap, straddling him so that her white thigh is revealed, but she is too lost in the kiss to care. Hamrick obviously cares, however, as his hands are exploring every inch of her, and damn it if they're in the middle of a tavern, she would have given herself to him then and there. But the Prince remembers himself and pushes her off, longing in his crystalline eyes. Nora, he says, but he runs off, leaving her feeling numb from his mouth and hot from his touch. Would've been nice for him to pick up the tab before he left, though.

Hanzo has to put the book down. He had no idea a book could be so… _descriptive._ There were passages unmentioned above that would make a stone blush. Even Hanzo felt a little warm, but he tried to distract himself by looking out at the scenery around them. They are crossing through a wide grassy plain, the forest a diminishing line on the horizon, his mountain barely visible over the trees. Jesse is sleeping across from him, chin to his chest and a dribble of drool coming out of his mouth. What a disgusting man, Hanzo thinks, but he can't look away. The book had him thinking things he'd never even imagined before: holding hands, sharing jokes, kissing, touching, _sex._ He understood the concept of all these things, as his father was all too happy to educate him when asked. But this was the first time he'd ever had an _urge_ of his own, and of all people, it had to be Jesse McCree. Hanzo fantasized what it would be like to straddle the human, to _kiss_ him…

He had to stop. He dug a talon into his arm until it bled, letting the pain ease some of the lust that had worked its way into his system. After a minute he opened the book again, fascination fighting his embarrassment, and read as Nora and Hamrick met again and again, the sexual tension reaching unimaginable peaks…

 

They arrived at the city of Hovvenstek with the sun high in the sky among a crowd of bustling merchants and shoppers there for the city’s expansive market.

Hanzo couldn't stop his wide eyed staring.  There were more people he'd ever seen in one place, and so much was happening that he found it hard to know where to look. Jesse helped him jump off the cart and led the way into the city.

The fine spring weather was amplified by the amount of bodies and the heat from food carts selling fried meat and sweets.

Hanzo couldn't help stopping to stare at the merchant’s wares - marbled, sparkling jewelry, rolls of vibrant fabric, toys and knick knacks by the dozens - forcing Jesse to take his hand and drag him along behind him.

“We gotta get to the train station,” he said, waving away a young girl selling flowers. “I'd rather not stay here any longer than a couple of hours.”

“Why? This place is amazing,” Hanzo said, stopping to watch a man painting plates in the strong gold and orange of the sun. Jesse tugged to get him moving.

“It's a sight, yeah, but not so friendly at night.”

He felt Hanzo stop again and groaned, turning around with a scowl at the ready. Hanzo wasn't paying him any mind, however, as he had become captivated by a store window.

“What is it?” Jesse asked impatiently. Hanzo was looking at a store mannequin, exquisitely dressed in a fine black suit. The outfit was a shiny velvet, with a gold trimmed collar and a bright red scarf draped around the neck. It was simple, elegant, expensive.  

“Shit. Guess I did promise ya a change of clothes, huh.”

“I think it is the least you owe me,” Hanzo said.

“For what?” Jesse said with an offended expression.

“You know what,” was all Hanzo said before walking inside.

The soft scent of linen and dye greeted them as well as an elderly tailor, bespectacled and small, who took Hanzo to the back to take his measurements. Jesse sat on the upholstered armchair to wait, feeling like a crow among doves in his shabby travel wear around all the fine clothing.

He started to doze off waiting for Hanzo, when there was a cough catching his attention again. Hanzo stepped out from the curtain leading to the back, head high and hands smoothing down the fabric.

“Well?” he said, looking down at the outfit. “What do you think?”

Jesse's mouth had gone dry. Hanzo was dressed in a fine black and gold tunic that buttoned up to his neck. His pants fit perfectly - too perfect, in fact, by the way they hugged his every curve from ass to ankles. He had also found a hat that covered his horns and ears, but he let his long black hair flow down. He was beautiful as a flower, elegant and poised as royalty. Jesse awkwardly hurried to his feet, fighting the urge to do something embarrassing as get to his knee and kiss Hanzo's knuckles.

Hanzo was still waiting for feedback, so Jesse choked out, “You look amazing.” It was the truth.

Hanzo seemed pleased by this. “You think so? I hate the hat, but it can't be helped.”

The tailor came around behind Hanzo, settled to calculate the bill. When Jesse looked at it, a little part of him died, but he couldn't tell Hanzo to find a different outfit. It would be a disservice to the world. They also bought a cloak, more suited to travel than Hanzo's first choice of a luxurious velvet piece that would weigh a tonne if there was rain.

They left with Hanzo feeling and looking much more confident, though he could do without all the eyes that gawked at him as they passed. Jesse couldn't help staring a bit too. Combining his looks with such beautiful apparel really did make him look like royalty. Jesse glanced at the watching eyes nervously. They really needed to get out of this city before dark, or else they were asking for trouble.

They reached the train station, a large miraculous building with high thick pillars and a clock dead centre above the doors. Jesse led the way to the ticket counter.

“Two tickets to Numura?” he asked, fingers crossed.

The young woman behind the glass checked the schedule briefly before informing him, “The last train to Numura just left.”

Jesse blinked hard, smiling sweetly as if he could charm a train to appear.

“Really? Ain't there some way we could catch the caboose or something?”

The young woman giggled, and looked at the schedule again. “There's another train tomorrow at one. Can I help you find lodgings for the night? Perhaps I can show you around the city?”

Jesse didn't notice the way she traced a finger on the wood in front of her, but Hanzo did. He grabbed Jesse by the arm and dragged him away.

Jesse ran his hands through his hair.

“Well, it's bad luck, but we'll have to find somewhere to sleep for the night.”

Hanzo looked at the city from the top of the train station's steps. “It wouldn't hurt to walk around a bit more, would it?”

Jesse wanted to say, yes it might just, especially with you looking like that, but it was still early in the day, so he consented to following Hanzo around like a weary butler after his Lord.

The eyes that followed them from the dark alleyways of the city went unnoticed for now, and Jesse allowed himself to enjoy the city like a tourist, for the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep it in your pants, Hanzo  
> Your beautiful, tight pants


	6. Old Friends

They walked around for what must have been hours. Jesse bought Hanzo an ice cream cone, but he gave it to Jesse after trying one lick. He let Hanzo play a few rounds of dice, but he lost every one and had to be torn away before he attacked the man scamming him. They wandered the streets until the sun set and the street stalls began to close up, rolling back to the safety of their homes.

Jesse realized the time with a jolt.

“Let's find somewhere to sleep,” he said.

Hanzo looked at the emptying streets and sighed. “Why are you so paranoid? This city seems perfectly safe.”

Jesse laughed anxiously, pulling Hanzo to follow him. “This place’s notorious for its nightlife - and for how it treats tourists who think they can just walk around after dusk. Not to mention I've got some old friends that won't be too happy -"

“Jesse _Fucking_ McCree.”

Jesse froze. He turned around to see the familiar face that had spoken.

“This is the pendejo that fucked up my heist back in the day.”

“You don't say,” responded the woman next to her dryly.

Jesse smiled, stepping in front of Hanzo as if he could hide him. “Sombra. Been a long time.”

Sombra smiled and crushed her cigarette beneath her heel. She was dressed, as usual, in her heavy fur cloak and gold chain. A tall and beautiful woman was hanging off her arm, dressed in a revealing black dress, a parasol perched on her shoulder.

Hanzo looked at the pair curiously. “Are these your friends?”

“Eh,” said Jesse, waving his hand so-so.

Sombra noticed Hanzo after the fact.

“What a pretty little thing you found, Jessito. Looks like we're both doing pretty well for ourselves these days. No thanks to you.”

Jesse's sixth sense shivered, and he glanced back to see three men surround them.

“Now, Som, what happened back then was a misunderstanding -"

The tall woman had pulled out a knife and stuck it to his throat as quick as silver. “Sombra has told me of you in great detail, Jesse McCree.”

Jesse heard the growl behind him as the barest warning before Hanzo's hand whipped out, striking the blade from her hand with a metallic thwack. The tall woman looked at her empty hand in stunned silence, and to the brick wall beside them, the knife embedded in it.

“Amelie, enough,” said Sombra. “Don't kill him til we've had a bit of a chat. You will join me for a drink, Jessito?”

Jesse ran a hand over his neck, a drop of blood coming away. He dropped his nervous smile like a mask and dropped into a more relaxed stance.

“Shit, Som. I hoped we could be civil about all this.”

“I'm a woman of business, Jessito. All debts must be paid.”

Jesse sighed and chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright. Let's get this over with then.”

Sombra spun around and disappeared through an alley, her companion casting them a cold glare before following.

“Fuck,” muttered Jesse. “Hanzo, wait out here. I'll be back in a flash, this is just some old business that needs attendin’ to.”

“No,” said Hanzo.

Jesse blinked in rapid confusion. “Yes.”

“No,” said one of the men behind them. “Sombra will want to speak with you both.”

Jesse sneered at the man. “My friend has nothing to do with her.”

“Your friend is much safer in our company at the moment, McCree,” hissed another man, shoving Jesse down the alley.

Jesse glanced around at the encroaching darkness of the street. Already men stalked towards their business, unkindly looking at their congregation, and Hanzo was the only one sticking out like a silver piece in the mud.

“Fine,” he spat out, taking Hanzo's arm to lead him down the alleyway.

Jesse went first up the dark narrow stairs, feeling the eyes in walls follow him even now. The door at the top opened before they even got there, and soft music leaked out with the smell of smoke, liquor and perfume.

It was a bar, empty of customers but full of men in dark clothing, menacing eyes all trained on him. In the corner Jesse saw Sombra, arms spread on the backs of a booth, a cigarette already idling on her nails. Jesse didn’t need the shove on his back to push him to her, but nonetheless he was forced to stand in front of her.

“Please, Jesse, have a seat,” she purred, gesturing to the seats across from her.

Her companion, Amelie, patted the spot next to herself, looking at Hanzo. “You can sit by me, monsieur.”

Hanzo sneered at her and pushed his way beside Jesse instead. Amelie merely smiled at him, crossing her arms as she sat back.

Sombra jolted in surprise, a hand flying to her chest as she laughed. “How rude of me! I should introduce myself. My name is Sombra. And you are?”

She extended a lax hand to Hanzo, her rings catching the light of the candles. Hanzo looked at the extended hand but didn’t move to grasp it. “Hanzo.”

Sombra put down her hand with a dangerous smile. “I get the feeling you aren't from around here, Hanzo.”

“He’s a researcher, from Numura. I’m actually escorting him back there,” Jesse interjected.

Sombra tapped the table thoughtfully. “And what do you research, sir?”

“Flora, fauna, boring stuff,” Jesse said.

Sombra glared at him. “I was talking to Hanzo, Jessito.”

Jesse sat back with a smile, but Hanzo could see the tenseness of his muscles despite his laid back posture. “Apologies.”

Sombra looked back at Hanzo, a smile curving her lips. “Well? I’m interested to hear what you’ve been studying.”

Hanzo looked at Jesse for some guidance, but none was found there. He was on his own if he were to keep up this facade.

“I have been studying many things. Plants, animals… that sort of thing.”

Sombra smirked, blowing out a cloud of smoke above their heads. “Despite my appearance, I am an educated woman. Perhaps you might be a little more specific.”

Hanzo could feel Jesse tense beside him. Clearly there was no fooling this woman with simple words.

“I have been researching the _pulsu cordis,_ a rare flower with a root that has shown the potential to cure paralysis. It grows in cold altitudes, only at this time of year, and abundantly in the Spine’s Pass. Along the way I came across many interesting specimens, such as the _gemma ursi,_ known colloquially as the crystal bear. It was disappointing, despite all it's hype.”

Sombra squinted at him, tapping her cigarette. Jesse stared at him in poorly disguised surprise. That was taken directly from his journal. Had Hanzo memorized it all?

“Well, I'll grant your ability to spout off random facts given to you, but I'm not so stupid as to believe that's all you are. This is Jesse McCree we're dealing with, yes?”

“Look, Sombra, I ain’t lying to you,” Jesse said, pulling out a cigarillo and lighting it. “What would be the point of that?”

“To do what you’ve always done and take the biggest prize, leaving the rest of us behind. Would you like to know how Jesse and I know each other, Hanzo?”

Hanzo nodded despite Jesse’s sharp look, so Sombra continued, a sharp smile directed at Jesse.

“Where to even start! As you _must_ know, before Jesse here was a simple escort for such _distinguished_ folks as yourself, he and I were wrapped up in some… less than legal business practices. But why be coy about it; we’re all friends here, right? We were thieves. I was the brains of our little duo, and he killed anyone who got in our way. What’s wrong, Jessito, was that supposed to be a secret?”

Jesse had clenched his teeth so hard around his cigarillo that he could barely draw smoke from it.

“My bad. Anyways, we had been a successful little duo for years, and we had finally come across the biggest heist of our careers. There was this house, belonging to a certain man of some influence. We had reason to believe he was in possession of some _very_ valuable medicine, a miracle cure some would say. How could we let all that just rot away in his basement? We had the perfect plan to get in. It was foolproof, except for on little flaw. You guessed it! Our friend here decided to double cross me on the day of heist, and disappeared with all the loot. You must have made enough to last a lifetime off of that one, Jesse.”

“Som, it wasn’t like that,” Jesse began to say, but he was cut off by the knife embedded to the right of his head. He gulped and looked at Amelie, placing her hand back in her lap with that same unmoving expression.

Sombra didn't even seem to notice the interruption.

“I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen, Jessito. You're gonna stand up and walk out of here. Without your little scientist friend.”

“Like _hell_ I will,” Jesse growled, fingers itching towards his belt.

“And if you don't, well, I guess I'll take him by force. What sort of price will you get me, Hanzo? I hope it will cover his debt, but if not we can always make rearrangements.”

Hanzo was still and silent in his seat, as he had been for the entirety of the exchange. However, with Sombra’s words he broke into a small smile, which burst forth a dry chuckle. Turning his silver eyes on Sombra he brought a hand to the knife by Jesse’s head and pulled it out, tossing it away before her men could even unsheath their swords.

“I am worth more than you could imagine, I think.”

Sombra raised an intrigued eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

Jesse grabbed Hanzo's arm and hissed into his ear, “What the hell are you doing?”

Hanzo shrugged off his hand with mild annoyance. “I don't mind showing these people who I really am. They should know what they are dealing with."

Jesse searched his face for a moment more before sitting back with a dejected wave of his hand.

“What are you two chatting about?” asked Sombra, an edge of impatience to her voice. “Care to fill me in?”

Hanzo pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the man who blocked his way to the door and addressing Sombra directly.

“You are right when you accused us of lying about who I am. My name is Hanzo, but I am no scientist. I am the son of Gothlen, scourge to travelers, General of the Arctic War, dragon of the Spine’s Pass. My mother was Keire of Hatebo Village. Jesse McCree is escorting me to Numura so that the elders there can tell the world the truth of my kind.”

Sombra’s eyes were wide with not only fear, but also delight.

Amelie stood as well, taking a sword from the seat beside her and unsheathing it.

“Don't tell me…” Sombra breathed.

“Yep,” sighed Jesse. “He's a dragonborn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist
> 
> Short chapter only so I could end on that cliff. Next one should be up soon!


	7. He Had No Idea

“I don't believe him,” spat Amelie, though she gripped her sword and pulled the hem of her skirt up her thighs to make her movements easier. “Prove it.”

Sombra was excitedly dabbing her cigarillo out on the table, not taking her wide eyes off Hanzo. “What are you talking about? It's obvious! Just look at his eyes.  _ Cielos _ , I don't know how I didn't see it before.”

Still, Amelie stared coldly at Hanzo until he looked at Jesse, who nodded distractedly, fingers on his temples as he cursed whatever Gods were mad at him now. 

Hanzo unwrapped his headscarf then, and with an almost collective gasp, all eyes in the room locked on his horns. 

Sombra looked like she’d just won the lottery. “Can I touch them?” she asked, and Jesse paled to see that she was completely serious. 

“Sombra, come on,” he protested, grabbing Hanzo’s wrist as if that could restrain him. “I know he seems real nice, but you don't want to go down this road. I don't wanna see you get hurt because of me.”

Something like shock flashed behind Sombra’s eyes before a wide angry smile took over. “Thank you, Jesse. I had almost forgotten what this was all about.” And quick as water she slid out a long blade from under her coat and pressed it to his neck, maniacal delight dancing in her eyes. 

“Submit, dragon, or I cut his throat.”

Hanzo looked unimpressed. “What should I care?” he said, and Jesse couldn't hide the hurt look on his face. Hanzo ignored him.

Sombra tipped an eyebrow and looked at one of the men behind Hanzo, giving him a quick nod. Immediately he grabbed Hanzo around his chest, pinning his arms to his side, and just as quickly he was sent flying through the air. Jesse hissed as Sombra dug the blade deep into his jaw, likely reaching bone. The sight of blood running heavily down Jesse’s neck got the reaction she was after as Hanzo growled with frighteningly animalistic furiosity. She raised a finger and shook it at him. “No,  _ mi mascoto _ . I see right through you. If you let this man die, I see no future for you, not from the University or from the people who would do anything to avenge my death.”

Hanzo was visibly itching to pounce on her, but she pressed harder on Jesse’s flesh, and he couldn't help hiss from the pain of it. Hanzo allowed the next man to grab his arms and tie a rope around his hands. 

Sombra’s smile was almost as vicious as Hanzo's growl. “Good. Sam, go get the chains from the basement. All of them.”

The boy she was addressing jumped to it immediately, looking glad to be away from the monster for a moment, and Hanzo had to tear his eyes from Sombra lest the bloodlust coursing through him make him pounce on her. He looked at Jesse instead, who was looking afraid and pale. He tried to ask with his eyes what to do, but Jesse was just as lost as he was. They sat in rigid silence while the boy came back and deftly wrapped Hanzo in no less than 100 pounds worth of chains, binding his arms and legs and even putting a muzzle over his face. The overwhelming smell of dried blood from the last person this was used on made Hanzo gag, but he resolutely kept his eyes on Jesse until he was lifted like a casket and carried away, two men on each side, and Amelie following behind with her long sword positioned to strike. 

Finally Sombra took the blade away and Jesse fell forward onto the table, shaking hands pressing at the deep cut on his jaw. 

Sombra wiped the dripping blade but kept it in front of her as she leaned back to look at him. Her face had no mirth in it any longer; only hatred carved the once sweet edges of her face.

“You can go,” she said at length.

Jesse glanced up at her sharply. “Why?”

Sombra ran her hand over the black spot where she had stubbed out her cigarillo absently, rubbing the ash between her fingers. “Because I can't kill you. Not while I owe you for saving my life. This makes us even.” She stood and rounded the table to lean over Jesse, holding the long blade to lightly pierce his chest. 

“But if I ever see you again,” she growled, “I will gladly slice you open. Now go, before I change my mind.”

Jesse obliged eagerly, knowing she meant her threats. If Hanzo had tried to pounce on her she would have cut his throat, and if he had gotten to her before she could, he knew that Amelie had her finger on a throwing knife to pierce him through the eye. But as he was at the door, he looked back, risking one last confession. 

“I didn't make any money off that job, y’know,” he said, and left. He’d never know if Sombra believed him, but he could guess she was too stubborn to even try. 

As soon as Jesse left he started walking. He knew Sombra would have a tail on him making sure he left the city, but he couldn't leave until he had Hanzo back. He had no idea how strong Hanzo really was, but he doubted even he could break through steel chains. If he was going to save him, he had to come up with a plan, and that wouldn't come into play until after Sombra thought he was gone. He went to the train station and slumped against its brick wall. A beggar sleeping on the steps glanced at him before curling in on himself again; a group of drunken men came loudly singing down the street. A candle blew out in an upper floor window when he looked up. For all Jesse knew, Sombra had people everywhere. His only option seemed to be to leave and sneak back into the city, but by the time he found a way, Hanzo could be sold off or killed. He had to find a way to trick his tail and make it back to Sombra's before that happened. 

 

Hanzo did not like captivity, but after struggling against the chains proved to do nothing more than make the foul smelling men laugh, he lay still and they grew bored. 

“You supposed to be dangerous, then?” squawked the one that smelled like sweat. “Looks like a goat to me!”

The big one that smelled like piss chortled and prodded him with a stick again. “Boss says you're gonna go to a nice home, lizard boy. Gonna find you a master to tame you into a nice pet.”

Hanzo tried to collect saliva to moisten his dry tongue, though he was dehydrated beyond belief. 

“I will kill him. And you. I will find your smell in a city of hundreds and tear out your throats and drink your blood.”

Piss and Sweat laughed like he was a hissing kitten. Hanzo didn't know how long he had been there. They had thrown him a cage, and he had only barely struggled to stand with his limbs bound when Piss gave him a shove with his stick and sent him flat on his back. He had hissed and growled for some time before he realized the uselessness of it, then lay on his stomach and closed his eyes, trying to drown out their heavy breaths and dull conversation.

After they ran out of things to talk about and insults to throw at him, Sweat pulled out two cigarillos and they smoked. The smell, as disgusting as it was, unfortunately reminded Hanzo of Jesse, and he felt cold and sick remembering the blood dripping from his neck. He was probably dead, Hanzo thought sadly.

Hours or days later, the door to his dungeon creaked open and two pairs of shoes clicked down the steps. Hanzo recognized the cloying perfume at once and struggled to his feet to face Sombra.

“Leave us,” she said to Piss and Sweat, and they trudged away dutifully, leaving Hanzo alone with her and Amelie. 

Sombra dangled a key before the bars, a smile twisting her lips. “I am sorry for this treatment,” she said without remorse. “You would kill us if you were free, you know.”

Hanzo nodded, which made her laugh. “You are honest to a fault, little dragon.”

To his surprise she opened the lock on the door and stepped in. She walked around him confidently and stepped behind him. Hanzo's hackles raised as she took the muzzle off with a few short clicks, and finally the damn thing fell off his face. He breathed in deeply and stretched his mouth wide to rid the stiff feeling from his jaw. 

Sombra gestured to Amelie, who walked in stiffly holding a tray loaded with meat, bread, and a jug of water. Sombra poured some water into an earthenware cup and held it to Hanzo's mouth. He sniffed at it and glared at her suspiciously before taking it, drinking long and deeply. 

“That's it,” she murmured, and gestured for Amelie to drop the tray on the ground. Hanzo stared longingly at the leg of meat on the tray, cooked but still carrying a delicious scent. 

“Free his arms, Amelie,” she ordered, and the tall woman hesitated a second before pulling out a ring and unlocking the heavy lock holding the chains around his arms. She quickly danced away as he shook them off and Sombra slammed the gate shut as he pounced at them, snarling and slashing with his talons. 

Sombra laughed shakily and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “Now, now, Hanzo. I know we can be civil about this.”

“What did you do to Jesse?” he snarled.

She sneered at the mention of his name. “Don't worry about him,  _ mi mascota, _ ” she said gently. “Tell me: what did he do to you?”

Hanzo blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”

Sombra pressed her lips together and glanced at Amelie. “To make you come down here. Did he threaten you? Does he control you somehow?”

Hanzo shook his head and struggled to sit on his still bound legs, a much easier task with the aid of his hands. “If you think you will find a way to control me, there is none. He and I had a civil agreement, to take me to the University and help convince the elders that my kind are not all monsters. Nothing more.” He picked up the meat and began eating, not caring about the women’s horrified fascination as they watched his sharp teeth tear the flesh. 

Sombra cleared her throat. “But you don't know Jesse like I do. He's not a good person. You're sure he never did anything to coerce you? And how could you believe he's with the University, hmm? For all you know he could've been taking you to sell to them. They would certainly pay handsomely for such a rare subject to experiment on.”

Hanzo bristled at the word. She had somehow struck the exact chord that had been worrying him about the University. What if they had no interest in helping him? His father had warned of human's obsession with killing dragons for their valuable parts as much as the sport. 

“He risked his life to bring me here,” he said. 

“I never said he was smart,” Sombra replied. She twirled the muzzle in her hands, looking at it thoughtfully. “Listen: I don't much like the idea of selling you, if I'm being honest. Jesse might be able to stomach something so cruel, but me, I think it's inhumane. I have a proposition for you, instead.”

Hanzo continued to eat silently, waiting for her to go on.

“I think you should join me,” she said. “I may not be able to spread word of your humanity like you wanted, but I can protect you from being poached.”

Hanzo glared at her. “What would you gain from such an arrangement?”

She raised her hands at him as if it was an answer. “You are clearly an intelligent man,” she said, and Hanzo felt something twinge warmly at being called a  _ man,  _ not to mention intelligent _.  _ “I would value not only your strength, but also your mind. In my business you cannot succeed with only one or the other. I can make you king in this city.”

Hanzo tried to imagine it, and found he hadn't the least idea what Sombra  _ did  _ aside from threaten and coerce. And kill men who tried to protect him. 

“You killed Jesse,” he spat.

Sombra looked at him sadly and kneeled down so that she was eye level with him behind the bars. “Oh,  _ mi mascota,” _ she murmured gently. “He ran away, as usual, when things get rough. As soon as you left he laughed and said what a waste of time you had been. That's why… well, that's why I wondered how he had brought you so far. I'm sorry, little dragon; he deceived you.”

Hanzo felt the food go sour in his stomach. “No,” he said. “He said he would help me.”

“He makes many promises,” Sombra agreed. “But I know better than anyone: once a snake, always a snake.”

Hanzo shook his head, but memories of their time together rushed through his head. The shifts in expression he glimpsed, revealing a hard, cruel person quite unlike the unassuming scientist he had come to know. His anger at Sombra for revealing his past. His eagerness to get Hanzo to Numura, for a reason so selfless as to  _ help him. _ He found the more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

Sombra stood and brushed the dust from her knees. “I'll give you time to think about it,  _ mi mascota _ . If you decide not to accept my offer, I'll let you free, but you'll be on your own. If you join me, however…” She trailed off, touching the red pendant hanging around her neck. “Well. I will treat you like family.”

She swept away and disappeared back up the stairs, leaving Hanzo staring at his hands.

Amelie stepped close to the bars and tapped her finger against them. He looked up at her gentle smile; she smelled sweet as flowers. 

“She made me the same offer years ago,” she said, voice soft and kind. “If not for her, I would surely be dead by now. She is a powerful woman; if you prove yourself, she can give you the world one day.”

Hanzo watched her leave, head spinning and wondering what to do.

 

Jesse hadn't done this in years, and even when he was younger he hadn't been very good at it. He pressed himself into the shadows of the rooftops as a group passed by, and crept along the shingles, slow and careful as to not knock any to the street below. Sombra's hideout was well chosen to ward off people like him with intentions to sneak in, but he knew her well enough to know she always had an opening somewhere high, so she could sneak out to the roof. Sure enough he found a thin string hanging out of one of the windows, which undid the latch inside when he pulled on it. The window creaked open and he lowered himself inside. Sombra had certainly been doing well for herself he saw, looking at her huge jewelry box on the massive armoire, at the jeweled daggers decorating the walls. He walked softly over to her desk, being careful not to make any creaks on the floorboards, and picked up the letter sitting abandoned. 

_ Dear R,  _ he read.  _ It's been a while. I hope this letter receives you in good health, and that the last time we met didn't scar too badly. I need a favor. Do you remember McCree, who used to run with me back in the day? He's back. I need you to give me full details of what he's spent his time doing since we last were  _

A splotch of ink covered the last word, and the letter was unfinished. He dropped the letter and looked around, his sixth sense making the hair on his neck rise. 

“I thought you’d have killed me by now,” he said to the empty room, and from the shadows Sombra melted out like a wrathful ghost. 

“I thought you valued your life.”

Jesse tried to hide his fear as Sombra grabbed a knife from the wall and pointed it at him, backing him into the corner. He had well and truly fucked up.

“You came back for your pet? I knew you were stupid, but this is a new low.”

“Listen, Som, you can't sell him,” Jesse pleaded. “I know what we've been told, that his kind are monsters, but he's not like that. He's good, he's smart. He just wants to see the world.”

Sombra stepped close enough to let the knife touch his chest, and as she entered the firelight, Jesse felt a pulse of shock at the wretched expression on her face.

“Before I kill you,” she said, voice carefully even, “tell me what happened after I saw you last.”

Jesse’s breath was shallow so as not to touch the knife too closely. 

“Will you believe me?” he asked.

Sombra twisted and kicked Jesse's legs from under him, slamming him to his hands and knees and raising his head with the knife to look up at her. 

“You're dead anyways, so you might as well tell the truth.”

Jesse nodded, and took a deep breath. “The day before we were planning to act, you sent me to test our entrance point, remember?”

Sombra stared coldly down at him without answering. Of course she remembered. She’d never forget.

“I saw the doctor, testing the medicine. There was this young woman, close to death. She didn't look rich or nothing like that, but the doctor gave her the medicine for free. She said it was all for research, that she should be paying her, but, God, it worked right away. That doctor was giving away the cure to death, and you know Harriet would charge for that stuff like it was diamonds. I made a choice, to tell the doctor and help her escape the city. I thought if I made it look like I got selfish, Harriet wouldn't punish you, but… I'm guessing it wasn't easy as that?”

Sombra scoffed, then laughed, loud and manic. “Oh, Jesse. You have no idea.”

Jesse's face crumpled and he lowered his head. “I'm sorry, Som. I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was supposed to protect you -”

Sombra threw the knife to the ground and turned away, laughing again. “You stupid man,” she said.

Jesse looked from her to the knife as she stepped in front of the fire and put her hands on the mantle, leaning against it as if for support. 

“What -”

Sombra spun around and slapped him hard.

“That is for not telling me,” she said. He put a hand to his cheek, shock making him speechless.

“Take down your hand,” she said, and slapped him again when he did. “That is for leaving.”

He barely had a moment to process before she kneeled down and hugged him around the neck, so hard he had to reach back to keep from falling. 

After a moment she stood, wiping an angry tear from her eye. “That's for everything else.”

She stepped away, and Jesse stood cautiously. He glanced again at the knife on the floor. Why hadn't she killed him?

“Why?” he asked, not thinking he deserved it. 

She laughed and looked back at him, smiling wide. “You think you really screwed me over, huh. You did, in a way. It took forever to find another right hand man.”

She put her hands behind her back and walked to her desk, touching the abandoned letter as she spoke. “Harriet was so angry. He tried to kill me, you know, but he was the only one wanting me dead. The other guys stood up against him and I killed him instead and took over the gang. If not for you, I might still be on the bottom, so I guess it all worked out in the end.”

She shook her head, smiling as if it was all too funny. 

“Go get your pet, Jessito,” she said.

Jesse’s heart jumped into his mouth. “You mean it?”

She shook her head, glancing ruefully at his eager face. “Amelie is very loyal, but even I couldn't do anything to stop her killing you if she catches you. If you can make it out of here, you can go. It's your last chance.”

Jesse wanted to hug her. “Thank you, Som. I'll pay you back, I swear.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You may have a few, er,  _ issues _ to sort out with the dragonborn. I may have blackened your name to him a little.”

Jesse didn't doubt it. “I'm sure I can handle him just fine,” he said with a confident smile.

“We’ll see about that,” she said, and he left quickly before she could change her mind. 


	8. New Mistress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. Time to get this over and done with.

Jesse found Hanzo sitting in a cage in the basement, his feet bound by chains, leaning against the bars and quietly watching as Jesse slipped down the stairs. He didn’t look happy to see him, but Jesse did his best to ignore that.

“Hanzo!” he whispered. “Hanzo, are you alright?”

The scarf Hanzo had used to hide his horns was hanging around his neck, and the fine clothes looked dirty and wrinkled, as if they had been rolled up and tossed through the dust. Hanzo did not reply except to watch as Jesse rushed to the bars. Jesse felt a pang of panic at Hanzo’s listlessness.

“Hanzo!” Jesse said, grabbing the bar as if he could pry them apart to get to the dragonborn. Hanzo turned his head away as if he didn’t even see him there. Jesse remembered what Sombra had said, how she had blackened his name. He had been sure in the moment that there was nothing she could say to change Hanzo’s stubborn mind, but doubt began to fill his mind like a leak in a boat. 

“Hey, what’s that about?” he chided, pulling out his lockpicking kit from his bag. “What did Sombra tell you? You know she’s a natural liar.”

Hanzo’s face might have told what he was thinking, but it was too dark in the stinking room to clearly tell. Jesse’s lips tightened but he started working at the lock all the same; he hadn’t needed to use this skill in ages, but his fingers quickly picked it up again and he had the gate creaking open. Jesse stepped in slowly, hands held out like he was approaching a feral animal. Hanzo looked back at him when the lock fell to the floor, and his eyes watched Jesse approach, still and observant as a cat’s. Jesse knelt when Hanzo didn’t move and picked up the lock holding the chains around his legs. It seemed like overkill, but Sombra knew there wasn’t such thing as being too careful when dealing with someone like Hanzo. Jesse put his pick into this lock as well, struggling to find its place in the half darkness, but after a few moments he had this open as well, and was impatiently tearing the chains away, even as Hanzo simply watched him. 

“Come on, friend, let’s catch that train,” Jesse said, holding out his hand for Hanzo to grab. Hanzo blinked and lifted his hand slowly like he was moving through a dream, until his talons were grasping Jesse’s wrist. He looked down at their hands, blinking slowly, and suddenly he bared his teeth and growled, low and warning. Jesse barely had time to pull his arm away before Hanzo had lunged, his talons leaving three red marks on Jesse’s arm that quickly started to bleed. Hanzo would have killed Jesse, he realized with a horrified lurch in his chest, but he had stumbled over one of the chains still caught around his feet. Jesse stood panting against the bars, watching as Hanzo pulled himself to his feet, seeming stiff after being chained up for so long.

“You lied to me,” he said, taking a single shuffling step towards Jesse. 

“No! Never! You gotta believe me, Hanzo, I may be a criminal and a fool, but I didn’t lie.”

Jesse felt sure Hanzo could have killed him by now if he wanted to, so he kept talking, since it seemed to be the only thing keeping him in one piece.

“What did she tell you then? Did she tell you how young we were when we got into this business? Did she tell you —”

“Enough!”

Hanzo’s voice was loud enough that Jesse glanced nervously at the stairs, but Hanzo lunged and grabbed his neck, pushing Jesse into the bars, his face close enough for Jesse to see the bits of black that streaked the silver of his eyes. 

“Why did I ever trust you? You are just like the rest; not a scientist, not even working for the University. Where did you get those books, hm? Did you kill the real McCree for them?”

Jesse couldn’t help laughing; he always laughed when he was afraid, but Hanzo knocked that out of him with a firm shove. 

“I’m the real McCree, I am,” Jesse stammered. “I work for the University, I have been for years.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed, but they were searching Jesse’s face desperately for an answer he could accept. 

“No, you wouldn’t—who would help someone like me? It makes no sense.”

Jesse carefully brought his hands to Hanzo’s, sliding them around his wrist but not daring to try and pull it away. 

“You have to trust me,” he said, trying to pour as much sincerity into his words as possible. He’d never been very good at that. “We have to leave, Han, before—”

“Well, well, well,” came a voice from the top of the stairs. Neither had even noticed the door open. “I didn’t think you’d actually be so stupid as to come back.”

Amelie was flanked by two men, both holding knives almost the size of their forearms. Amelie’s long silver sword was in her own hand. Jesse grabbed at Hanzo’s arms and managed to drag him out of the cage despite his half-hearted struggling.

“Give up, McCree,” Amelie said, almost sounding bored with the whole situation. “Your little dragon friend has seen past your lies and is ready to be freed from you.”

Jesse ignored the way Hanzo’s hand tightened on his arm and said, “Sombra knows I’m here. She said I can take him.”

Amelie smiled pityingly. “Really? You thought I’d believe that? I thought you were a good liar, McCree.”

The three of them were at the bottom now, and had spread to block any means of escape. Jesse saw they’d have to fight, but if Hanzo was going to be stubborn and not help, he wasn’t sure how he could take them all on.

Amelie held a hand out to Hanzo. “Come here,” she purred. “I think the time to choose has come.”

Hanzo looked at her, and back at Jesse, looking confused. 

“No, don’t,” Jesse pleaded. “I don’t know what they told you, but it’s all lies. You have to believe me.”

Hanzo’s lip curled at Jesse’s words, and he took a step away from him, fists closing at his sides. Jesse’s stomach dropped into a bottomless pit even as Amelie chuckled dryly.

“Oh, how famous,” she said, and beckoned for Hanzo to stand next to her. Hanzo stared coldly at Jesse a moment longer, his fingers opening and closing as if they longed to be around his throat, but he snapped his head away as if it took some effort and stepped past the two men to stand by Amelie. She sheathed her sword with a pleased sigh, her smile dropping as she looked back at Jesse, the rotting trash she had to take out. 

“I hope you understand that this is quite personal, McCree,” she said. “Sombra may play with the idea of forgiving you, but we both know she has a soft spot for the criminal types. That’s why she needs me. You know what to do.” The last was addressed to her two henchman.

Jesse pulled his knife from his bag, though it was comically small compared to the sick blades held by his killer’s. One of them even laughed aloud, advancing with the blade held at the level of Jesse’s neck while the other held it ready to puncture his stomach. Jesse set his jaw and lowered his stance, ready to take them down with him if nothing else. The knife may not protect his life, but it at least made the men wary, and for good reason. Jesse summoned the long abandoned fighting spirit from his youth, feeling the cold desperation like a familiar scent stinging at his nose, acidic and wretched, and knew he wouldn’t stop fighting against death until they cut off his head and bled him dry. He never wanted to go down this way, feeling more like a trapped animal than a man, but who is so lucky to choose their death? 

Hanzo still wasn’t looking at him, eyes trained on the floor and brows furrowed so tightly together that his eye twitched. Jesse couldn’t afford him any attention as the first man lunged, swinging his knife like it was a right hook for Jesse’s ear. Jesse ducked and backed away in time to avoid the second man’s swing. Jesse’s height always got in the way at times like this; when he was younger and shorter, he could weave under full grown men’s arms like a bird through tree branches, but as he was now he felt lumbering and clumsy. His years out of practice only served to heighten this, and he hissed as a blade caught him across the cheek. He was quick to respond, however, stabbing one of the men in the side, too quickly in and out to be fatal, but it would do. The man cried out and clutched his side, and the other took his place in front of Jesse, quicker and stronger than his friend and ready to take revenge on the injury. Jesse found himself pressed against the bars of Hanzo’s cage, Amelie on the stairs to his right, Hanzo unmoving beside her, the injured assailant on his left and the other coming from in front of him. 

“Okay, okay, there’s no need to drag this out any more,” Amelie said, pulling her long silver sword out once more. The men backed away at the sight of it, respect and fear painting their faces as Amelie stepped forward, and even Jesse shrank back at the look in her eyes. She seemed neither interested or disgusted; her face was empty and her eyes were pits, carrying no emotion over what she was about to do. Jesse knew he couldn’t duck away from that sword in time, but he managed to fall back into the open cage just as Amelie struck out, the blade meeting the iron bars with a low thrum. She examined it for chips, seeming to have all the time in the world before she looked back at Jesse who was scrambling back to his feet.

“I would have liked to fight you properly,” she said offhandedly, sliding her finger from base to tip of her sword. The scraping sound of her nail along its smooth edge was nearly as terrible as a dragon’s scream. “But we both know how it would it would end, don’t we? Sombra needs to forget you, once and for all. You are the stain that marks her past, the only thing keeping her from her true potential. Don’t you see that? Or are you too wrapped up in your own selfish greed to care about anyone but yourself?” She laughed, but the expression barely turned up the corner of her mouth. “No, just look at you. Shaking like a leaf. How she ever put her life in your hands, I’ll never know. If you ever cared for her, you should feel grateful she has me now, and that I will be the one to end your life.” She pulled her arm back, and Jesse found he couldn’t even lift an arm in defense under her cold eyes, so clearly full of blood and murder that the smell of death leaked from her like a cloying perfume. A choking sound interrupted her final strike, and she barely turned around before Hanzo was behind her, one hand on the back of her head and the other on her small chin. 

“May your new mistress be death,” he said before snapping her neck backwards with a swift snap. Amelie’s final expression was barely a breath of shock, her eyes only widening slightly and her lips barely parted before Hanzo let her fall to the floor with a thump. Jesse stared at her without understanding, half expecting her to stand back up. His eyes traveled behind Hanzo’s back to the two men outside the bars; one was prostrate on the ground in a pool of blood that seemed black in the half-light. The other fell onto his side as Jesse watched, still clutching at his open throat and making a gurgling sound as his own blood filled his lungs. Once he too fell, a thick silence coated the room, and Jesse looked back at Hanzo, standing over Amelie’s body but looking directly at him as if the bodies weren’t even there. 

“I’ll give you one more chance,” said Hanzo softly after what seemed like an eternity in that silence. “If you make me doubt you again, you will meet the same fate as these, but it won’t be as quick.”

Jesse tried to swallow, but his tongue was a dry log in his mouth and he only felt the threat of bile rising up his throat. Hanzo turned, stepping over the bodies towards the stairs, and he was already out the door before Jesse could force himself to stand, grabbing his pack with shaking arms and following after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lms if you saw that coming


End file.
